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SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 



OF THE 



AMEEICAN EEVOLUTION. 



BY 

JOSEPH BANVARD, D. D. 






Boston: 
Published by Q). Xothrop & Co. 

(Dover, M K: G. T. Oay c§- Co. 



Qr-r' 






zr: ^ % 



7? ?. ' 






Copyright, 1876, by D. Lothrop & Co. 



CONTENTS. 



CHAPTER I. 

PAGE 

FAEEWELL TO THE RED-COATS . . 7 

CHAPTER IL 

THE BOSTON MASSACRE . . . . 11\ 

CHAPTER in. 

A GLORIOUS BONFIRE .... 20 

CHAPTER IV. 

YANKEE INDIANS 30 

CHAPTER V. 

LEXINGTON AND CONCORD ... 42 

CHAPTER VI. 

THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS . . .59 

CHAPTER VII. 

BUNKER HILL Q^ 

CHAPTER VHI. 

THE SIEGE OF BOSTON .... 84 

(3) 



IV CONTENTS. 

CHAPTER IX. 

PAGB 

THE UNEXPECTED GUEST. ... 95 

CHAPTER X. 

ISIAC'S ESCAPE 108 

CHAPTER XL - 

HIDE-AND-SEEK WITH THE RED-SKINS . 119 

CHAPTER XH. 



y 



^ 



king's mountain 131 ^ 

CHAPTER XIII. 

MAD ANTONY 140 

CHAPTER XIV. 

WASHINGTON'S STRATAGEM . . . 143---^' 

CHAPTER XV. 

AN ARMY CAUGHT NAPPING . . . 157 

CHAPTER XVI. 

THE BOLD. MANCEUVRE .... 171 

CHAPTER XVII. 

RECAPTURE OF THE "GENERAL MONK" . 183 

CHAPTER XVIII. 

THE WYOMING MASSACRE. . . . 192-^'*''^ 



CONTENTS. V 

CHAPTER XIX. 

PAGE 

YOEKTOWN DAY 205 

CHAPTER XX. 

A GLIMPSE OF OLD '77 . . . . 217 

CHAPTER XXI. 

THE CAPTURE OF GENERAL BUEGOYNE . 227 

CHAPTER XXII. 

THE BRAVE BRITISH WIFE . . . 236 

CHAPTER XXIII. 

THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON . , . 239 

CHAPTER XXIV. 

WASHINGTON'S FAREWELL . . . 245 

CHAPTER XXV. 

COL. bratton's wife . . . .25: 

CHAPTER XXVI. 

THE concealed GUARD .... 262 

CHAPTER XXVII. 

DEBORAH SAMSON, THE GIRL SOLDIER . 273 

CHAPTER XXVHI. 

SOLDIERS* YARNS 284 




SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 
OF THE EEVOLUTION. 

CHAPTER I. 

FAEEWELL TO THE KED-COATS. 

" HUREAH ! hurrah ! the twenty-fifth of No- 
vember, a day never to be forgotten — a day 
next to the Fourth of July — Hurrah ! Honor 
to George Washington I Thanks to the Conti- 
nental army ! Glory to God ! " 

Such was the joyous exclamation of an old 
revolutionary veteran, as he entered the door- 
yard of his little cottage, on Broadway, New 

(T) 



8 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

York, near where the hospital now stands. With 
his cane, his wooden leg, and his stout lungs, he 
created quite a furor among the little folks who 
were playing in the neighborhood, and many 
of them followed him to his door. " Hurrah " 
continued the old man, " the war is over ; peace 
is declared, and the last red-coat is drummed 
out of the country. I tell you it did my old 
eyes good to see the Britishers leave the wharf 
this morning " and the lips of the veteran trem- 
bled and the tears coursed down his wrinkled 
cheeks. 

" I guess Uncle Tim loves to see sogers about 
as well as we do " said a roguish-looking urchin. 

" Aye, aye, Bobby, there's no handsomer sight 
on the broad earth than regiments of the enemy 
in full retreat. Boys, " continued the lame 
warrior, to the group of children around him, 
"if you had been on the battle-field where I 
have been, with the wounded, the dying, and 
the dead all around you, and these same red- 
coats shooting down your friends, and fighting 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 9 

to get your liberty away, you would know just 
how I feel to see them beaten and driven home. 
As tli^e last company of 'em left our shores this 
mornitig I thought over the whole war ; 1 thought 
of all the wretchedness they had caused us, the 
numbei they had slain, and of the multitudes 
they haVe left behind them, mutilated like my- 
self. I thought of the contrast between their 
condition\when they landed, and their condition 
now, and y hen I realized that all this terrible 
work was elided ; that we had conquered the 
British and bi'oken the tyrant yoke, and secured 
a glorious independence, my heart leaped, and I 
seemed as youtg as you. Why, I almost fancied 
I had the leg I \ost at iMonmouth back again 
v/hole and souncKand could feel the blood throb 
througli it as warn as ever! " 

*' Are these the s\me sogers," asked a little 
light-headed, blue-Wd boy, named Tommy 
Brown, " are these tPis same sogers I read about 
that shot down the peii^le in the streets of Bos- 
ton?" ' 



10 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 

'' They belong to the same army, " replied the 
veteran, dropj)ing into his great high-backed, 
rush-bottomed chair. Uncle Tim always sat in 
this chair when he read the papers, or ^alked 
with the boys. 

" That Boston massacre was a most monstrous 
piece of wickedness. I Jived in Boston at the 
time, and I remember all about it" 

" Do tell it to us. Uncle " cried several voices 
at once. "You know we always lo^e to hear 
your stories. " 

" You don't like to hear them an/ better than 
I love to tell them, *' said Uncle Tim. 




CHAPTER II. 

THE BOSTON MASSACEE. 

" You see, boys, the Boston Massacre was not 
exactly a revolutionary event, as it -occurred on 
the fifth day of March, 1770, a little more than 
six years before the Declaration of Independence, 
and before the war of the Revolution had com- 
menced. Still it was one of the things that helped 
bring it on. The British government sent two 
regiments of soldiers to Boston, to frighten the 
discontented inhabitants, and keep them, quiet 
and obedient. They landed on Sunday with all 
the array of war, marched with flag and fife and 
drum through the streets, and took up their 
quarters in the town. Boston saw itself turned 
into an oppressor's garrison. The presence of 



12 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

those troops was a shame and an irritation to 
every patriotic citizen. " 

" And what made them shoot the people?" 
asked the little blue-eyed bo}^ 

" Well, Tommy, I am coming to that, " said 
Uncle Tim. '' On the 22d of February several 
boys went through the streets of Boston carry- 
ing pictures of certain mercliants who were 
known to be importers of English goods, and 
who, of course, were unpopular. They did this 
in order to ridicule the merchants, and to cast 
odium upon their conduct; for the British gov- 
ernment had so oppressed the people by the 
Stamp Act, as it was called, that Ameiican patri- 
ots had agreed to buy and use no more English 
goods. I saw these pictures, or effigies, and 
could not help laughing at them. While these 
boys were having their sport in the streets, they 
were met by a royalist — that is, one who took 
sides with the King of England. This royalist 
was a spy upon the people, and was accustomed 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 13 

to give information against them to tlie govern- 
ment oj6&cers. 

'' At the same moment I noticed a countryman 
coming down the street. The royaUst tried to 
induce this man to destroy these pictures which 
the boys were carrying. He wisely declined. 

'• The royalist then made the attempt himself. 
The boys resisted. An altercation ensued ; and 
a crowd soon collected. Some sympathized 
wdth the boys, and encouraged them. This 
made the royalist more angrj^, and he began to 
pour out his abuse upon the citizens, — accusing 
some of them of perjury, and threatening to liave 
them prosecuted. They however regarded these 
threats as too insignificant for notice. 

'■ But the boys who had the pictures, irritated at 
the man's interference, followed him to his home, 
retaliating as best they could by caUing after him 
with reproaches and noisy ridicule. 

" As soon as the man had entered Ids dwelling, 
he seized a gun and appeared at a window with 
it in his hands, thinking to terrify the boys. But 



14 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

this only aggravated them the more, and they 
began to throw snow-balls and stones. 

" The incensed royalist then levelled his musket 
through the window, and fired. It was a fatal 
shot. One of the boys fell dead in the street. 
This created a great excitement among the peo- 
ple. 

" An immense multitude attended the funeral 
of the poor boy and followed his body to the 
grave-yard. They considered him a youthful 
martyr to the cause of liberty- " 

"How did the soldiers behave after that?'* 
asked Tommy Brown. 

" After that, when they strolled tlirough the 
town, they usually carried large clubs with them. 
They knew how heartily the people disliked the 
army, and they were always ready to pick a 
Cjuairel. 

" On the 2d of March they insulted some rope- 
makers. This provoked a fight, in which a num- 
ber on both sides were wounded. These assaults 
were repeated upon the rope-walk with new 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 15 

aggravations and greater excitement every time. 
The indig^nation of the citizens aorainst the red- 
coats increased day by day. 

" Finally, on the evening of March 5th, a party 
of seven or eight armed soldiers, under the com- 
mand of Captain Preston, were seen in King 
Street in front of the custom-house. 

*' A good many people were already assembled 
there, some from curiosity, and others because 
they expected another fight with the soldiers, 
and were resolved to take part in it. 

" On these the British soldiers fired, and eleven 
of the crowd fell ! Oh, it was a horrid sight to 
see the citizens of Boston shot down in cold 
blood ! " And the old man shuddered, and 
paused in his story, as the scene passed again 
before his mind. * 

"Did all the soldiers fire together?" asked 
little Tommy. 

" No, one gun was fired first, but that did no 
injury. Then two reports were heard, and imme- 
diately two persons in the crowd fell dead. '* 



16 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

" Oh, I am glad I was not there ! " cried 
Tommy. 

" Keep still, " said one of the boys, " Uncle 
Tim hasn't got through yet. " 

" Who were the two that were killed ? " 

" One of them, " replied Uncle Tim, " was 
Samuel Gray, a rope-maker, and the other was a 
mulatto. The excitement was furious now, and 
between the soldiers and citizens the long hatred 
flamed into deadly rage. Three or four more 
guns were fired, and two other men fell wounded. 
Then five shots followed, three of them from the 
custom-house windows, wounding several more. 
Thus the firing continued until eleven persons 
were shot. But as if murdering our patriots 
with bullets were not barbarity enough, one of 
the cowardly red-coats ran to Mr. Gray as he 
lay dead, and plunged a bayonet into his head, 
scattering his brains upon the pavement ! My 
blood boils even now, as I remember that shock- 
ing deed ! 

" The affair made a terrible sensation, not only 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 17 

in r^Iassaclmsetts, but through all the colonies. 
It occurred on Monday, and on Thursday the 
funeral of the slaughtered citizens took place. 

" It was a very solemn time. The stores were 
closed, and the tolling bells of Boston and the 
neisfhboring: towns filled the air with mournful 
music. Tiie procession met in King Street, 
near the scene of the massacre. The funeral 
then passed on to the burying-ground, where 
the martyrs were all deposited in one vault. * 

" You can hardly understand, boys, how intense 
was the horror and wrath awakened throughout 
the colonies, when once the enemj^ had shed 
patriot blood. These outrages deepened our 
opposition against British oppression, and made 
war inevitable. They served also to increase 
the sympathy and union of the colonies with 
each other, so that they could plan together, and 
arm themselves as one against the common foe. " 

* King Street is now called State Street. The place of the massacre was in 
State Street, just below the old State House, and near the corner of Wilson's 
Lane. The Custom-House was on the corner of Wilson's Lane and State 
Street, where the Merchant's Bank now stands. The soldiers stood immedi- 
ately in front of this when they fired. 



18 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

"I guess they didn't forget those murdei^ 
very soon, " said Tommy Brown. 

"No indeed," replied Uncle Tim, ''The 
Anniversary of the massacre was celebrated 
publicly every year. And on these occasions 
our most eloquent orators addressed the people, 
and stirred them up to be watchful, and, when 
the time came, to fight for their liberties. 

" So the spirit of resistance in the people was 
kept alive, and their patriotism took fire at the 
slightest alarm. This was shown when the}^ 
threw the tea over-board in Boston Harbor, and 
afterwards, when they faced the Red-Coats at 
Lexington, and on Bunker-Hill." 

" What was done with the soldiers who com- 
mitted the murders ? " asked one of the boys. 

" They were brought to trial, " said Uncle 
Tim. " Captain Preston, who commanded the 
company, and six of the men, were acquitted. 
Two others were found guilty of manslaughter. " 

It was now near sunset, and the old man's 
supper was ready. " Come boys, " said he, as 



OF THE KEVOLUTIOX. 



10 



lie rose up from his great chair, and stood very 
straight, " Let's give three cheers for Washing- 
ton and Independence ! " 

Instantly the whole circle of little patriots 
shouted at the top of their lungs " Hurra ! Hurra ! 
Hurra ! " 

And then they separated for the night. 





CHAPTER III. 



A GLORIOUS BONFIRE. 



" Pomp, you're a hero ! " shouted a group of 
young men on the Park in the city of New 
York, who were surrounding a poor colored man 
known as Pompey Ducklegs. 

'' Capital, Pomp ! You're a hero, Pomp ! tell 
us some more of your adventures." 

Pompey was a great favorite with the citizens. 

His peculiar cognomen of Ducklegs was given 

him because he had lost the lower part of both 

his legs, which compelled him to waddle along, 

at a slow pace, upon his knees. He was a man 

of more than ordinary intelligence and wit, and 

as he had been in a number of engagements in 
(20) 



SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 21 

the war, his descriptions of scenes he had wit- 
nessed were always interesting to the people. 
Whenever he chose to talk he never wanted for 
listeners. 

" When I was took from de West Injy's, whar 
de kidnappers leff me," said Pompey, '' I come 
to Rhode Island, an' stayed dar till de war broke 
out. I was dar when de ole Gaspee was burnt, 
an' I had a hand in it." 

" Good. You shared in the glory, did you? " 
asked one of the crowd. 

" You're right," said Pomp. " An' dar was 
glory 'nuff in de high ole bonfire dat ship made. 
De great blazes went squirmin' up her riggin' 
like snakes ; an' when de masts fell thunderin' 
down alongside dey made a 'lumination roun' de 
whole harbor, tree or fo' miles. You'd a tought 
de lass day was come." 

'' Tell us how you captured her, Pompey." 

" Yes, give us the whole story," said several 
voices. 



22 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

' Pomp saw his audience was interested, and a 
grin of satisfaction gleamed in his black face. 

"I lived in Providence dem times," he went 
on, " an a British schooner was lyin' in de bay, 
to keep a look-ont on Yankee boats, so dey 
shouldn't smuggle goods ashore — an' 'tween 
you an' T, boys, I used t' be up to a little smug- 
glin' myseff, once 'n a while, yah, yah ! " 

" Wal, you see, de cap'n o' dat schooner was 
a bumptious ole buck, an' he wanted all de ves- 
sels comin' in to Providence to lower dere flags 
an' s'lute him when dey pas' by." 

" How did the Yankees like that ? " 

" Oh, it made 'em mad, an' some on 'em 
wouldn't do it.'' 

" What happened then ? " 

"Why den," answered Pompey, " de British 
cap'n would bang a gun at 'em, an' chase em' 
way into port. I tell jou 'twas crank fun to 
see de racin' such times. Jolly ! how de 'people 
used to run down to shore, and on de way, to 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 23 

look ! An' wen a Yanlxee beat de ole Britisher, 
how de boys used to swing hats and lioller ! " 

'^ But the Gaspee, the Gaspee ? what of her ? " 
demanded an impatient listener, 

" Wal, ye see wh-en de Gaspee Lay dar 
watcliin', a Providence paeket come in. Her 
cap'n was a high-strung fellow, an' he wouldn't 
take off his cap and make a bow to no British 
schooner nowhar. So he kep his flag a flyin', an' 
sailed om De big British cap'n felt insulted, 
and fired off a gun to bring him to. Yah, yah 
you bet he n^bber stopped for dat. He didn't 
min' nothin' 'bout it, but kep' right on, jes' as if 
dey hadn't been nobody dar. Ole Britisher got 
hoppin* mad now, so he up anchor, an' took ar- 
ter dat Yankee, full saiL 

*'But Yank knew dem waters better'n he 
did; so when he seed de red-flag schooner 
chasin', he tought he'd manage it so t' fet<3h him 
aground. 'Twas high tide, ye see, an' all de 
ehoals and wuss places was under w^ater out o' 
sight. Tell ye, boys, 'tw^as play to see dat packet 



24 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

steer up, an' rub close in shore, wid cle Britisher 
right in her wake! We all knew, well 'nuff, 
what w^as comin'. In a little while — smack ! 
clar stood ole schooner still as a post, wid her 
sails all hoisted, stock in de mud — an' de big 
cap'n rippin' an' tearin' to split hisself. Ki,bow 
tickled 'Mericans were ! De packet come in all 
safe, with flag apeak, an' wdien our Yankee 
cap'n came ashore, how he and de wdiarf folks 
did laaf ! Wal, 'twasn't long 'fore eberybody 
knew de British spy w^as aground. Some darin' 
feller said, ' Come, let's go hum her ! ' Others 
was 'fraid, an' said, ' No, no ! w^e'll have a whole 
English fleet upon us. 'Den we'll Imrn clem 
too I ' sa3's one. 

" So de matter was talked ober till de people 
got all in a fume 'bout it ; an' finally, a lot on 
em 'greed to go. Dar was Massa Browm, a rich 
merchant, an' Cap'n Whipple, dat ebery body 
knowed and 'spected, an' dem two men was to 
take de lead. Cap'n Whipple knowed me, for 
I'd sailed wid him as cook seberal times. ' Pomp,' 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 25 

says he to me, ' would you like to go ? ' (You 
see dey didn't call me Pompey Ducklegs, "cause 
I hadn't lost my legs.) ' Aye, aye, sir,' says I. 
' Be on hand at twelve o'clock to-night,' saj^s 
he. An' you befc I was dar, prompt and airly. 
Dey fixed upon a place to meet, an' at mid- 
night a good many men got together on shore, 
all armed with swords and muskets. We had a 
power o' fixin' and waitin' to do, but, finally, 
'bout one or two o'clock, we all got off in some 
whale boats. We rowed mighty cautious, an' 
whispered when we had to say anything. Bimeby 
we come close to de schooner, but Ave didn't see 
nor hear nobody. I s'pose de sentry was asleep. 
An' fact, boys, we all dim' up de sides o' dat 
vessel, an' got aboard^ 'fore de British knowed 
anything 'bout it. When de cap'n waked up 
an' found out what was goin' on, he showed 
fight ; but one on us pricked him wid a sword, 
an' he concluded to keep still. De sailors all see 
it was no use, an' dey gin up, too. Jolly ! we'd 
captured an English man-o'-war, an' ossifers an' 



26 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

crew — an' never fired a gun ! Dat was de one 
time I felt like I wanted to hrag^ boys." 

'' Hurra for you, Pompey ! " said several of 
the young men. 

" Well, what did you do after you got pos- 
session ? " 

"Why, part on us took de prisoners an' de 
booty ashore, an' part on us stayed aboard. I 
was in de boat wid de ossifers, and arter we'd 
rowed a good ways, I seed some lights moving 
about on de deck, and pretty soon I seed a blaze. 
Fus' it was a little one, but it growed bigger 
mighty fas'. ' Fire, fire ! ' hollered one of our 
men. De cap'n o' de Gaspee looked roun' an' 
seed his vessel dar all in a flame. Oh, how he 
did rave, an' cuss de Yankees ! De fire crep' up 
an up, an' roun' an' roun', till it catched the 
upper cross-trees, an' wrapped every sail an' 
rope, an' shot over the sky-pole, an lit out on 
de water as bright as moonshine ; only 'twas red, 
red eberywhere. 

" De sky was all red, an' de sea was all red, 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 27 

an' de Ian' was all red. You nebber seed a 
splendider 'lamination. People come down 
sho' fi'om miles off to look at dat bonfire, and 
dey stood in big crowds all along. An' de fire 
kep' burnin' an' burnin', till it tetched tlie pow- 
der-mag'zine, an' den all went off, whang ! wid 
a noise that seemed like it shook de worl*. One 
minute all lieaben an' earth was streamin' light 
wi' sparks an fire-bran's, an de nex' minute it 
went out and leff us in de blackest darkness I 
ebber know'd. Nobody hollered den. It was 
too awful. But dar was no more Gaspee — dar, 
nor anywhere." 

" What happened the next day, when the 
authorities learned about it ? " 

'' Wall, 111 tell ye," said Pomp, putting on a 
mysterious look. " I'll tell ye what happened 
to me. I los' jive hunderd jyowiis hj dat affair." 

" Why, Pompey, you don't mean it! " 

"• Yes, sah, five hund'd i^omi's. Enuff to made 
a rich man o' me. I los* it, an' I didn't cry about 
it, needur." 



28 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

" That was too bad ! " said several voices. 

" No it warn't," said Pomp ; " an if it had been 
five times more I wouldn't a' cared." 

'' Now, Pomp, you're joking. Explain your- 
self," said his young audience. 

" Why, you see, boys," answered the old 
negro, breaking into a grin, " de gubment 
offered a reward o' five hund'd poun's to any- 
body as 'ud tell w^ho took an' burnt de Gaspee, 
or a single name on 'em, an' if him as told was 
one in de scrape hisself, he should receive bofe 
de money an, a pardon besides. Now I knowed 
a good many as was in dat party, an' if I'd tole 
on 'em, I'd a been a rich man. I los' dat money, 
young gemmen, 'cause ^vhy ? I had a padlock 
on my mouf. I wouldn't a tole for five thou- 
san' poun'. You hear ? " 

" That's just like you. Pomp. You're a hero 
to the backbone. Did any one else ever get the 
reward ? " 

*' No, sah. Dar warn't one o' dat comp'ny 
mean enuff, an' nobody else knowed. Five hun- 



OF THE REVOLUTION . 29 

dred pouu's couldn't buy a man of us. But 
laws ! didn't de affair make a big 'citement all 
roun' darl Eberybody was wond'rin'. Some 
said de king would send ober an army, an' whip 
us rite off. But de res' said, ' Let 'em come, an' 
we'll show you what Yankees can do ebery time.' 
Now, young gemmen, if ye'll help a poor, lame 
niggah to a few pennies, he'll be berry t'ankful." 
He held up his old, torn hat, and received 
quite a generous contribution from his audience, 
who had been immensely entertained both by 
his narrative, and by his way of telling it. They 
then dispersed, leaving Pomp to waddle home on 
his duck legs, as best he could. 





CHAPTER IV. 



YANKEE INDIANS 



One pleasant Saturday afternoon Uncle Tim 
was sitting in his accustomed place in front of 
his house, when Tommy Brown and his friend 
Bobby were seen slowly approaching him, look- 
ing very earnestly upon a small piece of paper 
which they held between them, and al the same 
time engaged in earnest conversation. 

'^ What have 3^ou there, my boys," said the 
old soldier, "that interests you so much? " 

'' It's a picture of the Boston Tea Party,"' 
answered Tommy. 

''The Boston Tea Party, hey? ha! ha! ha! 
A good subject, my boys, a good subject for a 

(30) 



SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 81 

picture ; let me see if I should know it," said lie, 
reacliiiiGf out his hand. 

" Oh, yes," said he, as he looked at it, " that's 
it — that'll do very well. There they are, ships, 
stores, Indians, spectators and all. There they 
are. I tell you what, boys, that was a big thing, 
and it required pluck to manage it." 

^' Were you there ? " asked little Bobby. 

" Yes, indeed, I guess I was," replied the old 
man, '•'• and I learnt one thing that night." 

" What was that? " inquired Tommy. 

'• I learut how to make Indians. Yes, how to 
make Indians out of Yankees. And if you 
won't tell, boys, I'll let you into a secret," con- 
tinued the old man, lowering his voice almost to 
a whisper, '-'- 1 ivas one of themy 

" What," said Tommy, " one of these In- 
dians? " 

" Yes, I was a Mohawk Indian that night ; 
and for more than two hours I stirred British 
tea there, with a tomahawk for a tea-spoon. 



32 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

We made it hot, too. Oh, but that was a lively 
party ! " 

" What was it all about, Uncle Tim ? " asked 
little Bobby. 

"What was it all about? Why, boy, the 
King of England sent over here a law that no 
tea should be landed in America unless we paid 
a tax of three pence a pound on it. That law 
was made by the British Parliament three thou- 
sand miles from here, and, what is more, they 
wouldn't allow any of us colonists to have a 
place in that Parliament, to represent the coun- 
try and vote for our rights. 

" Well, the Americans thought that was high- 
handed t3a'anny. ' Let us send men of our own 
to Parliament to represent us, and speak for us,' 
said we. * No,' said they, ' we don't want Amerr 
ican rej)resentatives here. We will make laws 
for you to suit ourselves, and you must submit.' 
And so they passed this law about the tea. It 
made us very indignant, you may guess. Public 
meetings were held all over the countrj^, and 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 83 

spirited speeches kindled up the excitement to 
fever heat. The people were appealed to by 
their love of country and their love of liberty, 
to resist the execution of this unjust law. Eng- 
land had no right to tax us without our consent, 
no matter whether it was three pence or a hun- 
dred pence, and we did not mean to let the old 
government begin to make slaves of us, in that 
way or in any other way. 

'' During the excitement two vessels, laden 
with tea, arrived at Boston. And now the 
struggle commenced in earnest. A large public 
meeting was called in Faneuil Hall, of the inhab- 
itants of Boston and of the surrounding towns, 
and then the patriots discussed the matter, and 
took measures to prevent the landing of the 
tea. The merchants, to whom the tea had been 
sent, were requested not to receive it. The 
captains who brought it over were told to take 
it back. But the Governor of the colony would 
not let them go. Some of the merchants were 
willing to have it landed, and when the people 



84 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

learned this, they were so indignant that they 
went in crowds, and surrounded the dwellings 
of these merchants, and frightened them so that 
they fled for safety to Fort William, on one of 
the islands in Boston Harbor. It was then pro- 
posed to the citizens that the tea be landed and 
placed in some strong store-house for safe keep- 
ing. 

" But the inhabitants would not listen to this. 
They were determined that no tea should come 
into the country until the tax on it was removed. 
The Governor at the same time was determined 
that the tea should not be taken back to Eng- 
land nor carried away from Boston. As it was 
a possible thing for the tea to be landed privately, 
the citizens appointed a guard to watch the ves- 
sels night and day, so that their cargoes could 
not be discharged without its being known. 

" Matters were rapidly coming to a crisis, and 
on the 14th of December, 1773, a large ' Town 
Meeting' was held in Faneuil Hall, to take 
final and decisive action. 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 35 

" But the leading citizens, still desirous of 
making some orderlj^ terms with Governor 
Hutchinson, were not quite ready to go to ex- 
tremes, and this meeting was adjourned two 
days. The IGth of December came, the memo- 
rable Thursday, and the people assembled, not 
in Faneuil Hall, l)ut in the Old South church. 
The great orators spoke there, and their words 
roused ever}^ patriot to the last energy of reso- 
lution. 

" Josiah Quincy, Jr., made a speech at that 
meeting that thrilled every hearer, and nerved 
the weakest patriot to a grand resistance. He 
told them they must do something now, and not 
end it all in talk, for they were approaching the 
most terrible and trjdng struggle the country 
liad ever seen. The people believed it, and 
voted to stand by their first determination not to 
let the tea be landed. They then sent a deputa- 
tion to the Governor to get his permission for the 
ships to depart. The Governor obstinately re- 
fused. When the deputation returned to the 



36 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

meeting, and reported the decision of the Tory 
Governor, the excitement became greater than 
ever. Suddenly, while the discussion was going 
on, a loud Indian war-whoop was heard in front 
of the church ; this was replied to by another 
similar war-whoop from the gallery inside. It 
was evident that some mischief was on foot, 
that was not generally understood. This new 
development increased the agitation and alarm 
of the meeting. As it was now about six 
o'clock in the afternoon. The meeting: ad- 
journed. As the people passed out of the 
church, they saw to their surprise a number of 
Indians collected together. These directed their 
steps towards the wharf, followed by a large 
multitude. Presently the air began to resound 
with loud cries of ' Boston harbor a teapot I 
Boston harbor a teapot to-night ! ' This gave 
an inkling of what was going to be done, but 
those who were not in the secret hardly knew 
yet whether they ought to hinder the strange 
proceedings or help them on. The crowd pushed 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 37 

on in irregular procession until tliey reached 
Griffin's wharf. Here the 'Indians' went on 
board the vessels, followed by about a hundred 
and twenty others, some of whom had black- 
ened their faces so as not to be recognised. 
Others, more bold or reckless, make no effort at 
concealment. And now the work of destruction 
began." 

" And you were one of those Indians your- 
self. Uncle Tim ? " repeated Tommy Brown, 
wonderingly. 

" I was one of the Indians myself, little boy." 

" What made you think of such a funny 
make-believe — and where did you all start 
from in the first place ? " 

" Why, about twenty of us had agreed before- 
hand to disguise ourselves, so as not to be 
detected by the officers of the government ; and 
we decided it would be best to look like Mo- 
hawks. We were to take the lead in destroying 
the tea. I went in my disguise to the meeting 
in the Old South church, and stationed myself 



oS SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

in the front gallery, near one of the windows, 
so that I could see what was passing in the 
streets ; and when I saw the others make their 
appearance disguised as I was, I knew, you see, 
that the time for action had come. The war- 
whoop was the understood signal between us. 
When I answered it from the gallery, they knew 
word had come to the meeting from the Gov- 
ernor, that he would not let the vessels sail 
without landing their tea in America. That 
refusal, of course, put an end to all hopes of 
settling the difficulty in a friendly way. Well, 
as I was saying, when the Indians and their fol- 
lowers got aboard the ships, the work of de- 
struction commenced. In all, there were about 
a hundred and forty of us, and there were no 
idle hands that night, either." 

" What did you do first? " asked Bobby. 

" Why, we first opened the hatches ; then 
some went down into the holds of the vessels, 
and fastened the boxes of tea to the ropes ; oth- 
ers on the deck hoisted them up, and as soon 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 39 

as tliey got possession of tliem tliey knocked a 
hole in them, and spilled the tea overboard into 
the' water." 

" I should suppose they would have wanted to 
caiTy home some of it to th^ir grandmothers," 
suggested Tommy. 

'' Ah, yes ; several sly fellows in the company 
did fill their pockets and their shoes as full as 
they could ; and then there were a good many 
men in small boats who picked up some of the 
half-emptied boxes before they became entirely 
soaked with salt-water. But, boys, they had to 
use that tea very secretly, for any one detected 
with the article would have been mistrusted of 
having a hand in the riot. Besides, no good 
patriot would leave an American in peace with 
English tea in his possession after that — if he 
found it out.. Those who got any of it tha;6 
night had to hide it, therefore, in all sorts of out- 
of-the-way places." 

*' Didn't any of you get found out ? " 

*^I^ot till it was too late to be any danger to 



40 SOLDIEBS AND PATEIOTS 

US ; thougli I came pretty near it, for after the 
affair was over I returned home, and went to 
bed without looking sharp to see what I had 
brought with me. In the morning, as soon as 
my wife saw my stockings, she exclaimed, * Why, 
Timothy, where did you go last night, to get 
your stockings so full of tobacco f ' 

" I tell you, boys, I shook those stockings out 
of the window in smart time — and I didn't 
stop shaking and brushing till I had cleaned the 
woolen of every tell-tale leaf. The good lady, 
you see, thought the . tea was cut-tobacco ! I 
was careless in not examining those long stock- 
ings before I went into the house. I might have 
known that some of the contraband stuff would 
stick to them. My cap, feathers, and other 
Indian gear, I managed to take off in the dark- 
ness as soon as I left the vessel, and threw them 
into the water." 

" Didn't your wife ask any more questions 
about your stockings after that ? " asked Bobby. 

" Oh, she was puzzled, rather. But somehow 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 41 

I hushed her up, and if she had any suspicions 
she was safe, and she kept me so by saying noth- 
ing. Well, that was the way, boys, that we 
made Boston Harbor a teapot, and defied the 
tyranny that forced taxes on us. And now, 
whenever you look on that picture you have 
in your hand, you'll set twice as much by it as 
you did before, for you know one of the ' In- 
dians,' and he has explained it to you himself." 

" That's trae," said both the boys. 

''How much tea was there. Uncle Tim?" 
persevered Tommy Brown, reluctant to leave 
the subject. 

" Three hundred and forty-two chests, and we 
were only about three hours at it. You may be- 
lieve we worked hard, but we did it with a 
good will, for we were working for our liberty." 

The boys would gladly have tarried longer, 
and asked more questions, but some of their 
companions called for them, and they bade the 
old soldier good-bye till "the next time." 




CHAPTER V. 



LEXINGTON AND CONCOED. 



A FEW days after Uncle Tim's narrative 
of the Boston Tea-Party, the same group of 
children were clustered around him again. The 
conversation at this time happened to turn upon 
the battles of Lexington and Concord. 

" You see, boys," said the old soldier, " when 
the British Parliament saw that the Yankees had 
a will of their own, and wouldn't obey their un- 
just and tyrannical laws, they sent over more 
red-coats, a whole army of them, with plenty of 
muskets, cannon, and powder and shot, thinking 
to subdue us completely. They called us ' rebels,' 
and they calculated that their famous army was 

(42) 



SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS. 43 

going to scare our ' rebellion ' out of us, right 
away. 

"Ah, boys, King George and his wise folks over 
there had studied the wrong dictionary that time. 
What they called ' rebellion ' was the spirit of 
liberty, and they might as well have tried to 
drive salt out of the sea as to drive the spirit of 
liberty out of the Yankees. But they didn't 
know that as well then as they did a little while 
afterwards," continued the old man, with a 
pleasant smile and a slight chuckle. " When they 
had tried our metal seven years they were glad 
enough to cry quits, and let us alone. Yankee 
grit gave them something to chew on that they 
couldn't learn to like." 

" What do you mean by that ? " asked Bobby. 

" Why, I mean that when they kept on trying 
to make us go down on our knees to 'em, 
and got only powder and ball for their pains, 
every time, it was worse to 'em than chewing 
gravel." 

*' I guess it was," responded the little boy. 



44 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

"I'd ruther have my mouth filled chock full 
of sand, any time, than have bullets shot into 
my body." 

" Well, Yankee grit run mostly in the shape 
of bullets, as the king's soldiers found it," said 
Uncle Tim. "And now for the story of the 
battle of Lexington. 

" The Americans had collected some guns and 
ammunition, and stored them up in Concord, a 
small town about sixteen miles from Boston. 
General Gage, who had command of the British 
army that was stationed in Boston, heard of this, 
and he determined to capture or destroy these 
stores, so that our folks couldn't use 'em against 
the British. Early in the morning of the nine- 
teenth of April, 1775, the general sent off Colo- 
nel Smith and IMajor Pitcairn, with about eight 
hundred men, the bravest and most experienced 
of the English army, to frig] i ten the rebels, and 
make them give up the forbidden property. 
They expected to get away secretly in the dark, 
and be well on their way to Concord before the 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 45 

Yankees were up. But they were mistaken. 
They didn't know us half so well in them days 
as we knew them. Our young General Warren 
was a man that got up too early for the British 
pretty generally, and that morning in particular 
he was up and dressed, and wide awake. And 
so when that British regiment was making its 
way along through Cambridge, and off into the 
country towards Concord, he knew all about it, 
and liad guessed what they were up to, in fact, 
a good while before they started." 

" Were you a soger then ? " inquired little 
Tom. 

" Why, yes, a sort of one, as I may say. You 
see, boys, aU of us were soldiers then. We had 
no real, regular army, but every man that had a 
gun or a pistol, or a pitchfork^ for that matter, 
got it out, and stood ready to meet the enemies 
of his country. I belonged to the Cambridge 
minute-men, and we had plenty to do that day, 
I'll warrant you. Well, as I was saying, the 
red-coats expected to get a good ways towards 



46 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

Concord before the Americans could know it, 
and collect anywhere to dispute their passage. 
But ' the early bird ' was too much for them. 
General Warren sent two men riHit into the 
country along the two different roads to Con- 
cord, to alarm the inhabitants, and have them 
prepared for what might folio vv. One of these 
messengers, William Davis, crossed Boston neck, 
and went through Brookline to Lexington ; the 
other, Paul Revere, went through Charles town 
and Cambridge. Revere came near Ijeing caught. 
He met in Charlestown two British officers on 
horseback. They hailed him and wanted him 
to stoj^, but he had other business, and so he 
just wheeled his horse around and darted off at 
his highest speed. The officers commenced fol- 
lowing him. One of them being adroitly deceived 
by Revere, plunged into a slough, and got noth- 
ing for his pains but muddy clothes.'' 

"And what became of the other?" asked 
several boys, laughing. 

" Why, you see, Revere knew the different 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 47 

roads, and so, slipping into the one that led to 
Medford, lie got out of the way before the officer 
knew where he was going. 

" As he passed on he alarmed every house, and 
waked up all the families. ' The British are 
coming ! the British are coming I ' he shouted, as 
his horse's feet clattered along the road. Chil- 
dren cried, women turned pale (though most of 
them were terribly resolute), and the men seized 
their guns and powder-horns, and prepared for 
the worst. The consequence was, that, when 
the red-coats got into the country, they found 
the Yankees were all aware of their coming, and 
were prepared to receive them. Guns were fir- 
ing, bells were ringing, and everybody, young 
and old, was astir. Colonel Smith saw how it 
was, and sent back to Boston for more troops. 
There was need of it. Ministers, and gray- 
haired grandfathers, and even half-grown boys, 
were mustering on all sides for the coming con- 
flict. As I said, we had no real army organized, 
then, and we didn't march by trained companies. 



48 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

But you may guess we minute-men were off for 
Concord early that morning. 

" I seized my old gun as soon as the alarm 
came, and, slinging my cartridge-box and pow- 
der-horn, too, I took the war-path, not know- 
ing whether I'd ever come back. Ha ! I remem- 
ber what my wife said to me at the door." 

*' What was it, Uncle Tim ? " 

" Bless you ! the women were the very soul 
of courage, and as fall o' liberty as the men — 
if not more. Says my wife, ' Timothy, don't 
you flinch ! If you want more cartridges I'll 
make them for you. If you get out of bullets 
I'll melt the pewter spoons.' I tell you, boys, 
with that ringing in my ears, I couldn't be a 
sheep when the fight came. 

" Well, on the way to Lexington, we fell in 
with plenty more bound on the same errand — 
and we didn't let grass grow under our feet. 
But before we got to the town, tJieir minute-men. 
had got the news, and were paraded on the com- 
mon, under Capt. John Parker. Captain Parker 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 49 

ordered the company to load their guns with 
powder and ball, but not to fire till the British 
gave the first shot. After setting sentinels, he 
dismissed the company with orders to meet again 
at the call of the drum. Some went to their 
homes, and some lingered around the tavern." 

''Was it da3dight, then ? " asked Tommy. 

" No," said Uncle Tim, " there was scarcely a 
streak of gray in the sky yet. 

" After the company had scattered, and some 
had made up their minds that it was all a false 
alarm, one of the sentinels, watching down the 
road, discovered a British officer coming, and 
instantly fired his gun. Soon alarm-guns Avere 
heard in all directions. The church-bell tolled, 
and the drum-roll called back the minute-men 
at double-quick. Then for the first time we 
began to smell battle. There was work in ear- 
nest now just ahead. Liberty or death ! Some 
of us surmised that, as Samuel Adams and John 
Hancock, who v/ere known by the British to be 
strong sons of liberty, lived in Lexington, per- 



50 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

kaps the design of the British in coming there 
was to seize these men I If they succeeded in 
this they would be sure to hang them. So we 
persuaded the two patriots to retire to Woburn, 
a few miles off- We had hard work to make 
them go, for they burned to meet the brunt of 
the battle with us» But we told them their lives' 
were worth more to us tlian a host of common 
men, and they must not run any risks. After 
they had gone, we heard the Red-coats coming. 
How insulting they were ! They imirched up,, 
playing Yaiikee Doodle / The rascals knew that 
nothing could mock us more than for them to 
take our pet tune and fife it in our faces in ridi- 
cule. They soon stopped their music, however. 
Hearing the alarms,, and getting^ sight of the 
minute-men, they probably concluded they would 
meet with some opposition. So they halted 
to get their arms ready, and to wait for the main 
body to come up. In the meantime, about sixty 
or seventy of the minute-men had been drawn 
up on the common in two ranks. Brave hearts 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 51 

we all had, but tlie suspense was trying enougli, 
waiting there for the regulars to attack us. A 
little before sunrise they all made their appear- 
ance. First came the advance guard, and be- 
hind them the tall grenadiers with their high 
caps. They marched almost on a run — eight 
hundred or more drilled and picked soldiers 
against seventy farmers with no military train- 
ing or experience whatever ! But they dichit 
scare us ! There we stood and waited for them, 
rushing right at us with their scarlet coats and 
feathers, and gleaming guns. IMajor Pitcairn 
rode in front, and when he got to within about 
five rods of us, he yelled out, ' Disperse, dis- 
perse, you rebels ! lay down your arms, and dis- 
perse ! ' " 

" Did you go ? " asked Bobby, with his eyes 
stretched uncommonly wide. 

" No, we stood still, just as if we didn't hear 
what he said." 

" What did the major do then ? " 

" He was mad as a sore dog. He whipped 



52 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

out his pistol, and hallooed louder, ' Why don't 
you lay down your arms and disperse ? ' but we 
were determined not to go till we were forced 
to, so we didn't answer, and we didn't run. 
When the major saw that we didn't move, he 
discharged his pistol and ordered his men to fire. 
Immediately a deadly volley poured in upon us 
at close range. If they had aimed like marks- 
men they'd have killed every man ! " 

"Did you run, then?" asked half a dozen 
breathless listeners. 

" It was suicide to stay there and be shot 
down — a handful of sixty or seventy against an 
army ! The British had fired the first shot, and 
we fired back and retreated. Our captain, Jonas 
Parker, was as brave a man as ever carried a 
gun. He said before the battle he never would 
run from the Britishers, and he stuck to his 
word. After firing his gun, a w^ound from the 
enemy brought him almost to the ground. But 
he rallied enough to commence reloading his 
piece, when one of the bloody red-coats rushed 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 63 

upon him, and stabbed him dead upon the spot 
with his bayonet I " 

" Did anybody else get killed? " asked Tommy, 
pitifully. 

"Yes. Jonathan Harrington was mortally 
wounded right in front of the house where he 
lived. And what made it more dreadful, his 
wife was looking at him from the window when 
he fell. Poor man ! he managed to crawl as far 
as the door, whilst the blood was streaming from 
his breast, and there he breathed his last ! He 
had just been in the meeting-house after some 
powder, when the shot hit him." 

"How many were killed in all, Uncle Tim ? " 
" There were seven killed and nine wounded. 
There was wee^^ing and w^ailing that day in 
Lexington." 

" But didn't you kill any of the Britishers ? " 
" Not on the spot. But we paid them well 
before night. I thought to myself when I saw 
the men fall, ' As sure as God is just, these red- 
coats will get their reward. ' " 



54 SOLDIEKS AND PATEIOTS 

" How did they ? " 

" After they had succeeded in scattering this 
handful of patriots on Lexington common, they 
marched for Concord. But the minute-men 
were prepared to receive them there, too. They 
had a skirmish there. But the British suc- 
ceeded in destroying some public stores. They 
spiked two cannon; burnt the liberty-pole, and 
several artillery carriages ; threw five hundred 
pounds of ball into the mill-pond, and broke up 
sixty barrels of flour. But as good luck would 
have it, they broke these barrels in such a bung- 
ling way that the people succeeded in saving 
one-half the flour. The other stores had been 
concealed, so that the enemy could not find 
them, though I tell you, boys, they hadn't much 
time to search. Affairs were getting hotter for 
them every minute, and they soon commenced 
their retreat.'' 

" What ! did they get beaten? " asked Bob. 

" Well, boys," replied Uncle Tim, " I guess 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 55 

that before night-fall they felt about as well- 
beaten as any retreating army ever was." 

" Good 1 " exclaimed the boys. " They'd no 
business to shoot the Americans down and steal 
and destroy their things.^' 

*'But how did you beat them at last? " quoth 
practical little Bob. 

" Why, it was known all along the road that 
they had killed some Americans, and that excited 
the j)eople terribly ; and then we were receiving 
additions to our number every hour from all the 
surrounding towns. When these recruits came 
in and saw the killed and wounded, and the 
women and children crying around them, it 
stirred up all their righteous vengeance, and 
they vowed they would retaliate on some of the 
murderers. So when the red-coats began to re- 
treat towards Boston, the patriots ran through 
the fields and ambushed them along the roads, 
and picked them of£ with musket shots, man 
after man, so that really that day ended with 



5Q SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

one of the most disastrous fliHits of the British 

o 

during the whole war. 

*' While these sharp-shooters, singly and in 
squads, were wounding and killing them from 
behind walls, rocks and thickets on the way, 
some of our men hung upon the rear of the 
enemy, and shot them as often as they got within 
rang^e. Of course the British were firino^ at us 
during all their flight, and we had to be very 
cautious. It was a kind of runnins^ battle all 
the way from Concord to Cambridge. As they 
retreated, the British not only fired at our men, 
but rushed into the houses ; killed some who 
were there, and in a number of instances they 
set the houses on fire. But we followed so close 
behind that we could generally put out the fires. 
Major Pitcairn himself narrowly escaped being 
taken prisoner that day. He was obliged to 
leave his horse. We captured that, and found 
that Pitcairn had left in such haste that he 
hadn't time to take the pistols out of their hol- 
sters. He must have been brought to very 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 57 

close quarters, just then. Yv^ell, when the red- 
coats had gone as far as Cambridge, there they 
were met by Lord Perc}^ who had come out 
with another- detachment from Boston to help 
them. Percy formed his soldiers into a large, 
hollow square, and into this hollow square we 
drove the retreating: red-coats like a flock of 
sheep into a fold. It was lucky for them that 
Percy came as he did, for, what with fighting 
and running, they were almost ready to fall 
down in the road from sheer fatigue. As soon 
as the fugitive troops found themselves protected, 
they threw themselves on the ground with their 
tongues hanging out of tlieir mouths, and panted 
like so many hunted-down deer. Concord-day 
was a dreadful one for that regiment of red- 
coats." 

" Do you know liow many were killed and 
wounded, Uncle Tim ? " 

" On our side there were forty-nine killed, and 
thirty-four wounded," replied the old man. 

" Was that more than the red-coats lost? " 



58 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

"No, no, my boys; nor half so many, eitlier. 
Their killed, wounded and missing numbered 
two hundred and seventy-three ! We called ifc a 
victory, for we drove the British into Boston, 
and kept them there. Well, the news of that 
day's bloody work went throughout the colonies 
like wild-fire, and nerved the whole country at 
once to the work of common defence. The war 
was begun. Volunteers came pouring in from 
all j^arts, so that /<9r numbers we soon had quite 
a respectable army. We were badly equipped 
and poorly supplied for an eight years' war. 
But, boys, the Great Jehovah was with us, and 
he gave us the victory." 

"Hulloo! there's a red-coat!" cried little 
Bobby, as he pointed to a sailor in the street 
who had a dancing monkey dressed in a red 
flannel jacket. " Let's go and see him ! " and 
away scampered the children to see this new 
curiosity, leaving the old soldier alone. 




CHAPTER VI. 



THE GREEN MOUNTAIN BOYS. 



On the niglit of tlie 9th of May, 1775, a keen 
observer might have descried half a dozen or 
more boats rowing stealthily through the dark- 
ness across Lake Champlain on their way to Fort 
Ticonderoga. The boats were filled with some 
eighty-three Green Mountain Boys, who, under 
the command of Ethan Allen, had set out to cap- 
ture that strong fortress, and take possession of 
the cannon and military stores which were 
known to be there. The object of this party 
was not to fight, but to get pos -ession of the 

fort and its garrison by stratagem. 'Jliere was 

(50) 



60 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

BO time, therefore, to send for the rear-guard on 
the other side of the lake. 

It was decided to make the attack at once. 
One of the leading ofQcers of this small force 
was Benedict Arnold. He had received a com- 
mission as colonel from the Committee of Safety, 
in Boston, to raise and take command of a com- 
pany of four hundred men. It was therefore 
natural, perhaps, that he should feel himself 
entitled to head this important expedition, and, 
prompted besides by his personal ambition, he at 
first insisted upon it. But to this the Green 
Mountain boys would not consent. They Avere 
determined that their leader should be their 
friend and neighbor, Ethan Allen, under whom 
they had first enlisted ; and they would go with 
no one else. Finally it was arranged that Ar- 
nold and Allen should advance to the attack 
side by side. On the shore of the lake, after 
midnight, the men were drawn up in three 
ranks. As the undertaking was one of great 
uncertainty, and might prove also one of great 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 61 

peril, Allen wanted none but brave hearts to 
accompany him. He therefore determined to 
give any who felt in the least reluctant or timid, 
an opportunity to remain behind. He addressed 
them as follows : 

"Friends and fellow-soldiers: we must this 
morning quit our pretensions to valor, or possess 
ourselves of this fort. But it will be a danorer- 
ous and desperate undertaking, and I do not 
urge any one to join in it against Ms will. You 
that will go with us voluntarily^ poise your fire- 
locks ! " 

His call for volunteers was answered unani- 
mously. Every man poised his firelock, and 
Allen's eyes sparkled with delight when he saw 
the spirit of his company. 

" Face to the right," he cried, and taking 
the lead of the centre file, with Arnold by his 
side, he marched towards the fort. When he 
reached the large gate he found it shut, but a 
small wicket was fortunately open. But here 
was a wide-awake sentry, who, when he saw the 



62 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

Yankees approaching, levelled his piece at Al- 
len, and snapped it. But the gun would not go 
oif. Finding himself disarmed, the sentry then 
retreated through a covered way to the " parade- 
ground," within the fortress inclosure. The 
Green-Mountain Boys followed him, and he 
proved a good guide. Once in the fort, the 
Americans rushed upon the guards, shouting, 
yelling, and sounding their Indian Avhoop, and 
then they formed on the parade-ground in such 
a manner as to face and guard each of the bar- 
racks, where the garrison lay. One of the sen- 
tinels wounded an American officer, but being 
wounded in return, he cried, ''Quarter! quar- 
ter!" 

" If I spare you, Avill you show me the apart- 
ment of your commander? " said Ethan Allen. 

" I will." 

"Lead on, then." 

The sentinel went forward, and Allen fol- 
lowed. When he reached the commander's 
door, Allen cried out to him : 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 63 

" Come forth instantly, or I will sacrifice the 
whole garrison." 

At this summons the commander, whose 
name was Delaplace, made his appearance in a 
ver}^ unsoldierly plight. Having been aroused 
in such haste, he had no time to dress, and so 
presented himself before Allen with his breeches 
in his hand. 

" Deliver to me this fort instantly," said 
Allen. 

" By what authority ? " asked the astonished 
officer. 

"In the name of the Great Jehovah and of 
the Continental Congress ! " cried the impatient 
Yermonter. 

Delaplace was about to remonstrate, or possi- 
bly make further inquiries, but Allen perempto- 
rily stopped him, and shook his sword over the 
commander's head. Delaplace, seeing it Avas 
useless to parley or resist, at once surrendered 
the fort, and ordered all the soldiers under his 
command to parade without arms. By the time 



64 SOLDIERS AND PATP.IOTS. 

the sun was fairly up, that important stronghold, 
which liad cost the British millions of dollars, 
and many brave lives, was in the possession of 
the Americans, A- mere handful of undisci- 
plined Green Mountain Boys bad taken it in ten 
minutes Avithout the loss of a man. It was a 
bold and skilful exploit, and greatly exalted 
Allen in the estimation of his countrymen. 

The imj)ortance of this victory may be in- 
ferred from the fact that it put in possession of 
the Americans fifty prisoners, more than a hun- 
dred pieces of cannon, a number of swivels, and 
a large quantity of small arms and ammunition 
— of whicli last the colonists were then very 
much m need. 



^S^W^^ 




CHAPTER VII. 



BUNKER HILL. 



There had been a military display in the streets 
of New York. It was the anniversary of the 
seventeenth of June. Our young lads had been 
down to the Battery to see the parade, and on 
their way home, as they passed Uncle Tim's 
house, they saw him sitting in his great cane- 
bottomed chair, in his usual place in the door- 
yard. 

" Well, boys," said the old man, " the soldiers 

made a fine show to-day. It did my old eyes 

good to look at them. I hope the time'll never 

come when Americans will forgot to celebrate 

this day." 

(65) 



66 SOLDIEES AND PATKIOTS 

"I think Fourth o' July's better, Uncle 
Tim," said a shrill, boyish voice. 

*' Maybe you're right, Benny, but Seventeenth 
o^ June prepared the way for Fourth o' July, 
The two days are kind o sisters, you see. The 
He volution was the mother of 'em both, ?.nd I 
believe they're the two brightest births marked 
in her almanac, 

" Do you see that new cloth sign on the hotel 
over there ? "' asked the old soldier, pointing to a, 
transparency which had been put up in fi\)nt of 
the public house opposite. 

"Yes, sir," replied the lads, in chorus. 

" Well, what does it say ? " 

*' Bunker Hill." 

" Short enough ; but it tells a long story — 
at least to men like me, who helped do the fight- 
ing there. That name can't mean the same to 
you that it does to an old soldier ; but I want 
you always to shout for it when the seventeenth 
of June comes round. Now, boys, T can give 
you something to remember about it. Want to 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 67 

hear about the great battle, and the burning o' 
Charlestown, and about General Warren, and 
old Put ? " 

" Yes, yes ! " shouted all the eager group. 

" Well, then, come round here and keep still. 
You see there was no help for it, and we must 
come to a downright set-to with them English 
red-coats sooner or later. Everything they did 
in the name o' the king provoked us, and every- 
thing we did in the name ©' liberty made them 
mad. They had possession of Boston, and we 
had possession of all outside of Boston. They 
wanted to push into the country to plunder and 
kill, and we knew it, and kept Avatcli. The 
patriots laid siege to Boston, and hemmed 'em 
in there for weeks. But about the middle of 
June, after they had received a large addition 
of soldiers from England, with- a number of 
brave generals, we saw from the movements of 
their troops that they were preparing to attack 
us. So our leaders held a council of war in 
Cambridge, and talked over several plans, and 



68 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

General Putnan advised them to occupy Bunker 
Hill, and plant cannon there to hold the British 
in check, and more easily keep them where they 
were. The result was that an order came from 
headquarters to Colonel Prescott, to take a thou- 
sand Yankee soldiers and fortify Bunker Hill. 
All that is as fresh to me as yesterday, — and 
how grimly and quietly the companies mustered, 
and how solemnly good Mr. Langdon prayed 
with us on Cambridge common before we started. 
'Twas a warm, starlight niglit when we com- 
menced the march over to the Neck. We didn't 
want the eneni}^ to know what we were doing, 
and so we chose to go in the dark." 

" Were you a reg'lar army, then ? " asked 
Benny. 

" No. The British were well supplied with 
the best of everything used in war. They were 
splendidly drilled ; they had their commissioned 
officers, beautiful uniforms, and plenty of powder 
and ball. But our soldiers were the farmers and 
mechanics who had but lately come from their 



OF THE DEVOLUTION. 69 

work, some with rifles, some witli " Queen Ann " 
muskets, and old powder-horns; some with noth- 
ing but hatchets, pitchforks or clubs. We had 
on uniforms, no feathers, — nothing that made 
us look like soldiers. Besides, we had no regu- 
lar officers, and but little ammunition. And 
yet, boys, every man that marched to Bunker 
Hill that night WAS a soldier, though he carried 
a stick and went in his shirt-sleeves, — as many 
of us did. Never went braver hearts to battle 
than beat in the bosoms of those minute-men. 
We all felt the strength of a good caicse, and the 
blessing of a just God; and, defending our rights 
for the sake of our families and our country, 
there couldn't be a coward amongst us." 

" Did you fight in the dark ? " asked little 
Bobby, imj)atient of a slight pause, during which 
the old warrior communed with his thoughts. 

" No, my little lad. The enemy did not dis- 
cover us, and we had as much as we could do 
to prepare for fighting, — though we common 
soldiers didn't know that till we reached the 



70 SOLDIEBS AND PATEIOTS 

spot. Arrived at Bunker Hill, we saw the wag- 
ons and the spades, and then the leaders told us 
what we had to do. But now the question rose, 
whether Bunker Hill was really the best place 
to begin. Putnam and Prescott discussed the 
matter, and saw that there would be a difficulty. 
Cannons planted here would not be of much use 
unless we went down to the end of the pen- 
insula nearer Boston, where the enemy w^ere, 
and fortified that, too. Bunker Hill was too 
far off. The orders were to entrench there, 
but in those raw-militia days circumstances al- 
tered orders sometimes. * Push on to Breed's 
Hill,' says Putnam to Prescott ; ' we'll fortify 
that first.'' This was bold counsel, and boldly 
followed ; Breed's Hill was an advance post, 
and almost under the very noses of the British." 

" Was it far from Bunker Hill ? " asked 
Benny. 

" No, only a little way. It is in the eastern 
part of Charlestown, directly opposite the city 
of Boston, across the channel where the sea 



or THE REVOLUTION- 71 

comes in. So on to Breed's Hill we went. As 
soon as we reached the top (about midnight), 
we beg-an to dig onr entrenchments, and throw 
up a •' redoubt ' (a sort of pen fenced with banks 
of earth), to protect us from the guns of tlie 
British. This was done with just as little noise 
as possible, so that the enemy should not hear 
us. Oh, how we worked ! We knew we must 
get the whole done before morning, or lose our 
labor ; for as soon as daylight showed the British 
where we were, they would let loose all their 
artillery on us. 

" CoL Gridley planned the entrenchments, 
and took hold and dug with the rest of us ; and I 
saw Col. Prescott and Gen. Putnam at work, 
too. We all laid to it with such good will, and 
made such dispatch, that we had our bmast- 
works up and guns planted by day -break. Not 
a minute too early, I assure you. As soon as it 
was light enough, the English sentries saw us, 
and then the war-dogs began to bark, the alarm- 
guns roused the whole British armj^ — and all 



72 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

the citizens of Boston and Cliarlestown, too. 
Most of the people got up a good deal earlier 
that morning than usual." 

" Were the war-dogs 7'eal dogs that the Brit- 
ish had? " inquired wondering little Bobby. 

" No," said Uncle Tim, with a hearty laugh, 
in Avhich all the older boys joined, " I meant the 
cannon. We call them ' war-dogs,' sometimes. 
The cannon that first sent their compliments 
over to us were on board the ships of war that 
lay in the water around Boston and Cliarlestown. 
Later, they began to fire at us from Copp's Hill 
Fort in Boston. But we worked on, for there 
was more to be done before we would be in any 
condition to meet the red-coats when they came 
over to attack us in force. 

"It was a terribly hot day, and the sweltering 
sun, and the enemy's balls bailing round us, 
made our situation distressing enough. We had 
to swallow our rations between shots, and get 
our water as we could, or go without. Early in 
the forenoon, one poor fellow, digging by my 



OF THE EE VOLUTION. 73 

side, was hit by a ball and fell dead in his 
tracks. Some of the new recruits began to be 
nervous, but Colonel Prescott, to inspire them 
with courage, mounted the embankment, where 
he could be easily seen by the British, and 
walked slowly backwards and forwards, bare- 
headed, giving us orders, and overseeing our 
Avork as coolly as if he'd been inspecting us at 
dress-parade. I heard afterwards that General 
Gage saw him plainly, with a telescope, from 
Boston. Willard, who was Prescott's brother- 
in-law, was standing by General Gage at the 
time. 

" ' Who is that bald-headed man walking to 
and fro on the parapet?' asked Gage. 

'' Willard looked through the telescope, and 
said : 

'' ' It is Colonel William Prescott.' 

" ' Will he fight ? ' inquired Gage. 

" ' Yes,' said Willard, ' to the last drop of 
his blood.' 

" The old colonel's brave bearing made us all 



74 SOLDIEBS AND PATRIOTS 

braver. With such examples in our leaders, and 
with our own stout hearts, fear was the least of 
our troubles. Our worst torment was want of 
water." 

"Why couldn't you get water?" asked 
Tommy Brown." 

"After the firing commenced, the only well 
we stood any chance of using was back on the 
Neck, and it was a costly job to get a drink 
there, let alone carrying a bucket-full. The 
cannons on the ships swept the whole peninsula. 
I never was so dry in my life. It seemed as if 
I should die of thirst sometimes — and that was 
the way most of us felt. 

" After having sweat and worked so hard all 
night, and eaten so little, I tell you we weren't 
in the best o' condition to fight them lusty red- 
coats, with their full stomachs, and their good 
night's rest. But we were determined to fight, 
all the same. 

"When the entrenchments on Breed's Hill 
were finished, Old Put, who had been riding 



OF THE EEYOLUTION. 75 

back and fortli ever since daybreak, to get sup- 
plies from lieadq[uarters, and liurrj^ up reinforce- 
ments, headed a detachment of our men to 
Bunker Hill, to throw up some earthworks 
there. They took our tools with them, and 
begau to dig ; and the general worked like a 
beaver to keep 'em at it with good courage. 
But they were too tired and spent, and the 
British fire galled them terribly. A little after 
noon, Putnam was wanted elsewhere, and had 
to go ; and then the poor fellows scattered, and 
most of 'em never came back to help us again. 
About one o'clock we saw the British soldiers 
coming across the channel in a great man}' small 
boats ; thej landed, and as soon as all of them 
were read}', they commenced to march up the 
hill straight towards us, the artillery firing from 
the ships and the Boston forts all the time. 

'• We lay behind our breastworks, watching 
the red platoons come on. They marched with 
steady step, with banners flying, and their pol- 



76 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

ished weapons flashing in the sun. It was a 
formidable sight. 

" In the meantime, Prescott and Putnam came 
around, and cheered up the men. 

" ' Boys,' says the colonel, ' the red-coats will 
never reach this redoubt if you'll obey orders. 
Keep your fire till I give the word, and be care- 
ful not to sJwot over their heads ! ' 

" ' Save 3-our powder, boys,' says Putnam, 'it's 
scarce, and mustn't be wasted. Aim low, and 
as soon as ive can see the ivhites of their eyes^ 
you'll hear the order to fire ! ' 

" And Stark and brave old Pomeroy repeated 
these directions in other parts of the line. As 
the British came nearer they opened on us with 
heavy volleys of musketry, but these did no 
harm. They only rung tlie first bell for the 
death-meeting. And now the shores of Boston, 
and all the house-tops and windows through the 
north and west end of the town were filled with 
people, looking at the sight. The moment of 
battle had come." 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 77 

" I should s'pose,' said Tommy, " you would a' 
been so fierce to shoot that you couldn't a' held 
in, anyhow." 

" I tell you we luere fierce for it," replied 
Uncle Tim, with animation ; " we fairly ached 
to begin the firing, the enemy were getting so 
near, and showed such a splendid mark ; and we 
there waiting with loaded guns, all primed and 
cocked and aimed. But all of us that were in 
the redoubt managed to keep quiet. A few 
marksmen in the earthworks on our left did let 
off their shot, but Old Put rode up to them in a 
furj', and threatened to cut them down with his 
sword if they didn't obey orders. 

" The British had got within seven or eight 
rods \\ hen the w^ord was given to fire ; and right 
on the echo every musket and rifle spoke. All 
along our own entrenchments was one line of 
red blaze and blue smoke, and a stream of hot 
bullets poured into the enemy, mowing them 
down like grass. The English army never had 
met such a volley before. There was scarcely a 



78 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

man in their van that wasn't killed or wounded. 
Oh, it was a sight to see ! whole heaps of men 
lying there on the turf, officers and soldiers to- 
gether, groaning and writhing, or deadly still ! 
The shock was such to all the red-coat troops 
that their leaders couldn't do anything with 
them. They showed their backs to us, and ran 
down the hill." 

" You beat 'em, didn't you ? " cried the 
young listeners. 

" We did that time, most decidedly." 
" Was that the end of the battle ? " 
" No, no ! the British officers were unwilling 
to give it up, and let the Yankees have the day. 
So they rallied their men ; but it took them some 
time to get ready to come up that hill again." 

'' Just now the battle took on a new horror. 
We had begun to see smoke rolling up to the 
right of us from some of the houses in Charles- 
town, but we hadn't realized till now that the 
whole place was burning. General Howe had 
given the cruel order, and gunners on Copp's 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 79 

Hill had flung bomb-shells over into the town, 
and some marines from the Somerset helped on 
the rascally work, till the fire was set in so many 
places that it swept all afore it. Some of our 
men had homes and families in Charlestown, and 
you must guess how they felt. We all grew 
furious at the outrage, and gritted our teeth, and 
vowed to make the British pay fpr it before 
night. 

"It was an awful spectacle — that flaming 
town close by, let alone our grief and gloom at 
the loss. We had too much hot work in hand 
to spend time looking at it, but when the church- 
spire caught and blazed into the sky, one glance 
was enough to make us remember it forever. 
There it stood, America's first liberty -pole — a 
23illar of fire ! 

" Well, after a while the British got ready, 
and marched up the hill again. We waited this 
time till they were within six rods of us, and 
then we gave them another volley as terrible as 
the first. When the wind blew the smoke away 



80 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

there they hiy all along the ground, like swathes 
of red clover. But the royalist officers were 
getting desperate now. It would mortify them 
terribly to retreat again. They pushed on their 
other platoons, and kept them firing their guns 
at us, and at the same time the cannon from the 
ships and the fort were pouring their balls into 
our works. ^ But we stood our ground, and gave 
the red-coats such a hot reception that they 
could not get any nearer, try what they would. 
The officers cursed and yelled at their men, and 
struck them with the flat of their swords, but it 
was all in vain. In a few minutes they all broke 
in confusion, and fled like a scared mob, pell- 
mell down to the water, leaving their dead and 
wounded on the field. Scores of them were so 
panic-sUuck that they even scrambled into 
their boats, and were going to row back to Bos- 
ton. When we saw the enemy scatter, we sent 
up such a shout of triumph as might have been 
heard for miles. It was a glorious moment! It 
almost paid us for the burning of Charlestown." 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 81 

And the excited old hero paused to take breath, 
and wipe the sweat from his forehead. 

"The battle was over, now, weren't it?" 
asked Benny. 

" No, no, sonny. I wish it had been. Why, 
there were near five thousand British engaged 
against us that day. So there were enough left 
after all Ave had killed, and besides, our powder 
was beginning to give out now. Howe, and 
Clinton, and Pigot, and the rest of the officers 
got their scattered troops together once more. 
They had learned something this time, and had 
thrown away their heavy knapsacks, and came 
on without stopping to fire their muskets. Their 
field-pieces they managed to place so as to rake 
the inside^ of our works, and then they attacked 
us on three sides at once. They marched with 
fixed bayonets, intending to charge. When 
they were Avithin twenty yards of us, we poured 
upon them another dreadful shower of balls, cut- 
ting down a great many of them ; but though 
they wavered for a few moments, they recovered 



82 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOT& 

and raslied upon us. It was a Iiand-to-fiand 
fight now. All our ammunition was gone, and, 
as we had no bayonets, we used the butts of our 
guns to beat tliem back ; but we eauldn't — only 
fifteen hundred of us against so many. So we 
were forced to give way. General Warren was 
the last to leave the trenches, but he remained a 
little too long. Before he got off the hill he was 
slain. Prescott came near being killed, too. 
He remained until the red-coats could reach him 
with their bayonets. They made several at- 
tempts to stab him, but he parried their guns 
with his sword, and escaped, though not till his 
eoat and waistcoat were torn into shreds." 
" How many w^ere killed, Uncle Tim ? " 
" On the part of the enemy there were over 
ten hundred and fifty killed and wounded. 
Seventy of these were officers. On our side 
we lost four hundred and forty-nine^ killed^ 
wounded and missing. Ah, my boys, if we'd 
only liad a few reinforcements timt day, or if 
our powder hadn't given out ! As it was, though 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 83 

we lost the field, who says we didn't ivin the 
day? 

"It was a battle that gained us glory and 
showed our strength ; and the report of us that 
went through the country was the means of 
bringing out a great number to join our army. 
At the same time it convinced the English that 
we were a foe quite worthy of them, and not to 
be despised any more. After that they grew 
more cautious of giving us battle on our own 
ground. ' Bunker-hill Day ' taught the British 
that the Yankees could fight! " 





CHAPTER VIII. 



THE SIEGE OF BOSTON. 



On the evening of that same holidaj?-, after 
supper, Tommy Brown, and his friends Ben and 
Bobby, finding no sport or game to occupy the 
long twilight quite to their mind, made their 
way again to the house of the old soldier, and 
begged him to tell them " some more war- 
stories." 

" I don't know, I don't know," said the old 
man, " I'm afraid there ain't any story fit to tell 
on Bunker Hill day, but the story of Bunker 
Hill, and you've had that." 

" Oh, Uncle Tim, you can tell us what the 

British did," said Ben. 

(84) 



SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 85 

« Well, I will. After that battle the British 
were afraid to push into the country lest they 
should be treated worse than they were when 
they went to Concord. They had found out 
how Yankee guns could kill, and didn't mean to 
risk any more till they were obliged to. They 
were ashamed to leave by water, for that would 
look as if they were beaten. So they staid in 
Boston. But it wasn't comfortable for them 
there, now. Washington had been appointed 
commander of the American army by Congress, 
and he wasn't the man to let a tyrant's troops 
stay peaceably in the cradle of liberty. He set 
a close seige round the town, and penned them 
in, and kept them in a state of alarm all the 
time. Meanwhile he organized his army and 
had them thoroughly drilled. This situation of 
affairs lasted several months." 

"Why didn't Washington drive them out?" 
asked Tommy. 

" He didn't for three or four reasons. In the 
first place, the other officers of the army advised 



86 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

him not to. Then there were our patriot fami- 
lies. To bombard the enemy, and dislodge 
them by fire and sword, would leave many loyal 
Boston people homeless. Finally, he was loth to 
destroy American property. Most of the build- 
ings in Boston, and immense quantities of goods, 
belonged to our friends, and if Washington had 
attacked the town, a great deal of that property 
would have been destroyed. Besides, it wasn't 
known whether the Continental CouG^ress would 
approve of it. But finally Washington got 
tired of simply watching the British. So he 
wrote to Congress and asked their opinion about 
bombarding Boston. When this letter was read 
to them, there was a solemn silence in the 
House. No one wanted to take the responsibil- 
ity of recommending a measure that must cost 
Americans so much. John Hancock, one of the 
noblest patriots who ever lived, was then Presi- 
dent of Congress. As he belonged to Boston, 
and owned much real estate there, one of the 
members of Congress proposed that he should 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 87 

give liis opinion upon the subject first, being 
more personally interested than any one else. 
Mr. Hancock rose and said these words. I 
have always remembered them, boys, because 
they made such an impression on me the first 
time I read them. They speak the sentiment 
of a real patriot." 

*"It is true,' said he, 'that I am personally 
interested in this question. Nearly all the 
property I have in the world, is in houses and 
other estate in the town of Boston ; but if the 
expulsion of the British army from Boston, and 
the liberty of our country, require their being 
burnt to ashes, issue the order for it immedi- 
atelij!'"' 

^' Well, by the middle of February, 1776, it 
was determined to attack the town, and drive 
the British out. So Washington ordered bat- 
teries to be planted on the surrounding heights, 
from which balls and bomb-shells could be 
thrown, and on the night of the second of 
March, they opened their fire. The storm of 



88 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

destruction came furious and fast, and the Brit- 
ish soldiers had all they could do to put out the 
flames kindled by the siege artillery. The bom- 
bardment was continued all that night, and all 
the next day. On the night of March 4th, my 
regiment Avas ordered up to the top of Dorches- 
ter Heights, a couple o' miles south-east of 
Boston. I was under General Thomas then. 
The night was terribly dark, and the cold, bleak 
wind cut our faces cruell}^ We marched with- 
out fife or drum, or any noise. When we had 
climbed the Heights we went at once to work 
digging entrenchments and erecting forts." 

" Didn't that make you think of Bunker 
Hill ? " said Ben. 

" Yes ; onlj^ the ground was froze, and it \a as 
ten times harder work. But it was cold enough 
to work hard, and we plied our picks and spades 
with right good will. War \Yasn't a mere exper- 
iment with us now. We had got drilled to it, 
and felt confident. Our army was larger and 
better equipped, and better supplied with guns 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 89 

and powder. Besides, we knew the Britisli 
were about worried out. The siege had liar- 
assed them badl}', and they weren't in near so 
good spirits as they were when they attacked us 
at Charlestown. Well, before morning, we had 
two forts on Dorchester Heights and guns all in 
position. When the sun rose, and the British 
sav/ Avhat we had done, they were amazed. 
Tliey thouglit of Bunker Hill, I'll warrant you. 
A remark that General Howe made there was 
reported to us afterwards, and we thought it 
was a great compliment." 

''What was it. Uncle Tim?" asked little 
Bobby. 

" When he saw our works there, begun and 
finished since last sundown, says he, crossly 
enough, ' Them rebels have done more in one 
night, than my army would have done in a 
week ! ' " 

"Did he try to drive you off? " 

*' Yes. He took two thousand of his troops 
— picked men all of them — got them into boats 



90 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

and commenced rowing towards us across the 
harbor." 

'' Did you have another battle ? " asked Benny. 

" No, Providence prevented it ; for the wind 
blew so strong, and the waves rolled so high, 
that it was impossible for them to cross. So 
they had to return. The next day General 
Howe called a counsel of war. He got his offi- 
cers together and asked them what they thought 
it was best to do. They told him the best thing 
he could do was to get out of Boston. This 
was agreed upon at last. But it took them 
several days to get ready. Whilst they were 
lingering, our folks one night erected another 
fort and battery on another hill in Dorchester, 
called Nook's Hill. From this fort they could 
not only send balls and bombs into Boston, but 
they could also rake Boston Neck. When the 
British saw this, it made 'em feel in a great 
hurry to get away. The}^ saw there was no 
time to trifle. So the select men of Boston 
(Tories, of course) sent a flag of truce tq Wash-. 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 91 

ington, and told liim that General Howe with 
all his red-coats was going to leave the town, 
and if the Americans wouldn't fire on them the 
British would promise not to do any damage to 
the public property. Washington was too wise 
to pledge himself not to fire, but he made 'em 
some answer that satisfied 'em. It was the 
eighteenth of March, before the British got 
ready to go ; but on that day, at four in the 
morning. General Howe, with his army of ten 
thousand men, went on board the English ships 
that were in the harbor and set sail for Halifax. 
Just as the last company left the dock, the 
Americans marched into the city with their flags 
flying and their bands playing Yankee Doodle. 
That was a happy day to us, boys, and also to 
the patriot people. How they cheered, and how 
the girls and women waved their handkerchiefs 
as we marched through the streets! They 
hailed us as their deliverers, and many in our 
ranks were their fathers, and husbands, and 
brothers, too. There was singing, playing and 



92 SOLDIEES AND PATKIOTS 

bell-ringing, and great joy everywhere, in Boston 
that night." 

" Were all the people who had lived in 
Boston, there, then ? " 

" No, my boy. A good many of the people 
took sides with the British, and when the red- 
coats left the city these Tories went with them 
to Halifax. They carried with them all the 
property they could, but they had to leave a 
good deal behind, and that they lost. The 
army, too, lost not a little, for they left behind 
them a large amount of military stores, which 
our soldiers were very glad to get." 

"What were these stores. Uncle Tim?" asked 
practical Tommy. 

" Why, as there were fifteen hundred tory 
families who went away with the Red-coats, the 
vessels w*ere not large enough to take every- 
thing, so they had to leave two hundred and 
fifty pieces of cannon, four large mortars for 
throwing bombs, a hundred and fifty horses, 
tw^enty-five thousand bushels of wheat, and I 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 93 

don't know how much barley, oats, and other 
provisions which we greatly needed. And that 
isn't all, boys, either," and the old soldier 
paused, and looked exultant. 

''Oh, tell us the rest," cried all his hearers 
together. 

"You see, after tlie British army had left 
Boston, several store-ships from England, laden 
with quantities of articles that an army might 
need, arrived in the harbor ; and the captains of 
the vessels didn't know that we'd driven the 
British away, so they sailed right up to the 
vi^harf, and we seized 'em, and took possession 
of everything they brought, and the officers and 
crew too." 

" Did they have any powder on board ? " in- 
quired Ben. 

" Yes, one of them had fifteen hundred barrels 
of powder, besides solid shot and plenty of guns 
and other war material." 

" Were there any soldiers among 'em ? " 

" One of the vessels had seven hundred sol- 



94 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS. 

diers aboard right from Britian." 

"What did you do with them 9'' quoth little 
Bob. 

'^ We took 'em prisoners, and kept 'em till we 
could exchange 'em for Americans which the 
British had taken, or might take from us during 
the war." 




CHAPTER IX. 



THE UNEXPECTED GUEST. 



It was during tlie beautiful month of June, 
in one of the early years of the Revolutionary 
war, that an old farmer and his wife sat one 
warm afternoon in front of their old-fashioned 
house on the banks of the Hudson River, alter- 
nately talking and dozing. From their little 
door-yard they could see the grand river for 
many miles, but above it was cut off by a sud- 
den bend which carried it behind a high moun- 
tain. The splendor of the declining sun had 
gradually veiled itself, and was now beginning 
to darken in the shadow of distant thunder- 
clouds. 

(95) 



96 SOLDIEllS AND PATRIOTS 

The old man roused himself, wondering if 
night could have come upon him so unawares. 

'* Look at Old Tom," said he (meaning the 
neighboring mountain). "Look at Old Tom, 
he's drawing a black night-cap on his head." 

The old woman started from her incipient nap, 
and seeing the clouds, muttered something, and 
began to look for the knitting-work she had 
dropped. 

Far different from the two prosy characters in 
the little door-yard scene, both in seeming and in 
fact, was the lonely rider a few miles below, 
who at that very time was cautiously approach- 
ing the river through the wild hills, looking 
keenly about him. He was a tall, nobly-formed 
man, mounted on a fine horse. A single glance 
at his military bearing and his peculiar manner 
would have convinced one that he was there re- 
connoitering the condition and movements of 
the British, for his position was not far .from 
their lines. It was while he was engaged in 
this important but perilous duty that a company 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. ' 97 

of the enemy wlio were scouring fhe country in 
search, of cattle for food suddenly came in 
sight. The American had gone deeper into 
danger than he supposed. No sooner did the 
foraging party espy him than with shouts and 
savage oaths they dashed forward to take him 
prisoner or shoot him in his saddle. 

The stranger put spurs to his horse and darted 
away, swift as a native deer. Out of the glen, 
up the hill, he rode, shaping his course toward a 
neighboring wood, amid whose trees he expected 
to conceal himself. His pursuers followed him 
hotly, yelling, cursing, and firing their carbines ; 
but they could neither overtake nor hit him. 
In a few minutes the forest was reached. The 
stranger seemed well acquainted with the paths, 
and taking one of these, he pushed rapidly into 
the shadow. His enraged pursurers soon lost 
him among the trees and underwood, and were 
obliged to give up the chase. After riding some 
time at full speed the American reined up his 



98 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

horse, and hearing nothing of the enemy behind 
him proceeded at a leisurely walk. 

The gathering darkness had deceived him in 
the forest, but now the muttering of distant 
thunder explained it. This was followed by 
loud rumblings, and presently a sharp flash of 
hghtning admonished him to quicken his steps. 
Patting the horse's neck and speaking a few 
kind words to him, he put him again to his 
speed. Great drops of rain splashed down upon 
him as he fled, and then the water came in tor- 
rents, accompanied by furious gusts of wind that 
drove the pelting vollies direct into the travel- 
er's face. He kept on, but it was a tedious prog- 
ress, and before long the added darkness of 
real night set in. Our hero found it almost im- 
possible to proceed, and guiding his horse under 
the thick foliage of an old oak, he was preparing 
to spend the night there, when his eye detected 
the faint glimmerin' of a light. He cautiously 
approached it, and found that it proceeded from 
a farm house. Prudently looking through the 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 99 

window he saw only an old man and woman, 
and felt sure that they were the only immates. 
He could hear their voices in the pauses of the 
thunder, for though the storm had somewhat 
abated, it was wild weather still, outside. 

" The cow-boys * won't be ransacking round 
to-night, eh, goody?" quoth the old man. 

" Why, I don't know — I'll ventur' it's the 
very sort o' night they like best," replied his 
wife. " Hark ! what's that ? " 

"Oh, that's only the window-sash ratt — " 

Here three distinct knocks on the door inter- 
rupted the speaker, and suddenly changed his 
opinion. " Fact ! " he muttered, half to himself. 
" There's somebody there. Wonder who 'tis." 

" Whoever 'tis, I'm 'fraid we'll wish him fur- 
der," fluttered the old lady, standing u^d very 
straight, and looking nervous. 

The farmer went to the door. " Who's 
there ? " said he, shouting through the key-hole. 

" A friend, who has lost his way, and needs a 
shelter." 

* Gangs of tory outlaws common at that time. 



100 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

" Don't let him in," whispered the old lady. 
" It's nobody means any good to us." But her 
husband, less suspicious than herself, had already 
opened the door. A tall, dignified, gentlemanly- 
looking personage, wrapped in a great coat, thor- 
oughly drenched with rain, walked in and grace- 
fully saluted the old couple. 

" Ha, a bad night this, sir," said the aged far- 
mer, impressed with the stranger's bearing. 
" Throw off your surtout, and take a chair." 

" If you please, I will first see that my horse 
is made comfortable," said the stranger courte- 
ously. 

"I will see to that, sir," said the farmer, and 
he conducted his guest into the kitchen, where 
he had so recently been sitting with his wife. 
The good woman was not particularly pleased. 
She had her reasons. Robberies had been com- 
mitted in the neighborhood, and rumors were 
about that the rogues who did the mischief were, 
some of them, provokingly well-dressed and 
polite. She kept her seat and made not the 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 101 

least movement to provide the new comer any 
refreshments. 

When the farmer returned from the barn, 
where he had furnished a bountiful repast and a 
good bed for the horse, he gently reproved his 
wife for her lack of hospitality, and signified his 
wish that she should do something for the stran- 
ger's comfort. With commendable obedience 
the dame set about preparing a supper while her 
husband begged his guest to avail himself of the 
fire, and dry off the effects of the storm. 

Soon after the stranger had finished his sup- 
per, the old man informed him that it was usual 
for him and his wife to have prayers at that 
hour, and said he, " If you've no objections, sir, 
we'd be glad for you to join us.'* The stranger 
seemed pleased with the proposal. 

" Certainly. It will afford me great satisfac- 
tion," he said. " Communion with the Divine 
Being is eminently fit and profitable at the close 
of the day. Nothing is more important or more 
rational for man than the habit of devotion." 



102 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

These remarks, and tlie grave and serious 
manner in which they were uttered, completely 
quieted the apprehensions and disarmed the dis- 
like of the old lady, and increased the courage 
of the aged host to conduct the service in the 
presence of one whom he evidently believed to 
be his superior. 

Family worship over, the farmer lighted the 
gentleman to his chamber, and bidding him 
good-night, left him to find the repose which he 
so greatly needed. 

" John," said the old lady in a low voice as 
soon as her husband returned to the kitchen, 
*'do ye s'pose that man means what he says? 
He talks dreadful good, don't he ? " 

" Aye, aye, and ain't the look and the way of 
him good, too? I beUeve he's got the root o' 
the matter in him." 

" Well, yes, I hope so. But I couldn't a' told 
it when he come in." 

" You a'n't quite so suspicious as you was, eh, 
goody?" 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 103 

" I like him better'n I did." 

'' And do you think you'll lock up your silver 
spoons, and stick a fork over the door, and sleep 
with one eye open, eh, goody ? " and the old 
man playfully nudged his wife with his elbow. 

" Oh, shut up, John, now," pleaded the old 
lady — and that was all the defense she at- 
tempted to make. She did, in truth, feel a 
little conscience-stricken for having received her 
guest so coldly. 

While they were about retiring, and the house 
was still, they thought they heard a sound as of 
some one talking in the stranger's room. Strong 
curiosity compelled them to listen. It was the 
stranger's own voice, and he was engaged in 
prayer by himself. Silentl}^ they crept nearer, 
and stood on the stairs. 

After offering thanks for his preservation from 
the dangers of the day, and imploring blessings 
upon the family under that roof, the petitioner 
continued : 

" And now, Almighty Father, if it be thy 



104 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

holy will, that we shall obtain a name and a 
place among the nations of the earth, grant that 
we may be enabled to show our gratitude for thy 
goodness by our endeavors to fear and obey 
thee. Bless us with wisdom in our councils, 
and with success in our battles, and let our vic- 
tories be tempered with humanity. Endow also 
our enemies with enlightened minds that they 
may become sensible of their injustice, and will- 
ing to restore liberty and peace. Nevertheless, 
not my will, but thine be done. Grant the 
petition of thy servant for the sake of thy be- 
loved Son. Amen." 

After that it was evident enough that the 
good lady of the house did not indend to " sleep 
with one eye open" from any fears of her guest. 
If she lay wakeful at all it would be from won- 
dering who in the world that strange man could 
be. Next morning the gentleman rose early 
and stated to his host that it was necessary for 
him to cross the river immediately, at the same 
time offering to pay for the entertainment of 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 105 

himself and horse. The farmer declined all 
compensation. 

"Well then, sir," continued the stranger, 
"since you will receive no reward for your 
trouble, it is but right that you should know 
who it is on whom you have conferred obliga- 
tion, and then, perhaps, you will be willing to 
add to your kindness by aiding me to cross the 
river. I went out yesterday to obtain some im- 
formation respecting our enemy, and venturing 
too far, I was surprised by a foraging party, and 
succeeded in making my escape only by my 
knowledge of the woods and the swiftness of my 
horse. My name is George Washington." 

The farmer was of course greatly embarrassed 
and amazed to discover that his guest was so 
distinguished a person. He urged him to re- 
main long enough to take some breakfast, but 
Washington excused himself, pleading his ear- 
nest desire to cross the river at once. The far- 
mer accordingly called two stout negroes, and 
then proceeded, leading the horse, towards the 



106 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

water. There, with the assistance of his two 
men, he succeeded in placing the animal upon a 
sort of rough raft, and his master taking his 
place beside him, both were in a short time 
safely transferred to the other side of the Hud- 
son. When the farmer returned, he was met 
by the old lady some distance from the house, 
who seemed to be highly delighted. 

"He was a real gentleman," said she, "for 
after he left the house with you he came back 
and insisted I should take this," at the same 
time holding up a handsome present which she 
had received. 

" Do you know, wife, who it was that gave 
you that ? " asked the old man. 

" No, sorrer that I don't. Why, did you find 
out?^^ eagerly. 

" That was the ' Commander-in-chief! ' " cried 
the delighted farmer. " It was General George 
Washington ! When I wouldn't take any- 
thing from him for keeping him and his horse, 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 



107 



he said I oug^ht to knoAV who he was. and then 
he toh:l me his name. 

" Dear me, you don't say ! " responded the 
old lady, with a look of pleased astonishment. 
" Oh, how sorry I am I didn't know it at the 
time." 





CHAPTER X. 



MAC S ESCAPE. 



" HooEAw! Bill Mclntyre ! Wal, I swan to 
Columby, — ef you hain't ris from the dead ! " 

" Bless your happy old soul, Dick Green ! Is 
that you?'' 

And the two brawny Kentuckians, together again 
after two year's separation, shook and slapped 
and pawed each other like a pair of great, fes- 
tive bears. 

" Why, old feller," exclaimed Dick, panting 

with laughter and his antics of rough delight, 

" I never 'xpected to see you agin. When the 

red-skins gobbled ye up in that last scrimmage, 

I said you was a gone goose." 
(108) 



SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 109 

" Haw, haw ! good land ! So I should a' 
been ef the Injuns could a' had ther way," in- 
terjected Mac. " Trouble was, ye see, they 
couldn't hold me. I slipped threw ther fingers 
like a greased pig. Come, let's trade ; take a 
piece o' my bacon, and I'll take a junk o' your 
hoe-cake." 

"Right the fust time, boy! An' now jes' 
shake out that story. Tell us all how ye did it, 
— an' whar ye've been sence ye got away — an' 
what ye're up tew round here. Hev' ye come 
back to life to jine the army, an' help old Mor- 
gan, an' Greene, an' the rest on us whip the 
Tories ? Ha, ha ! this is too good ! " 

And with that the two old friends broke into 
another explosion of laughter, and sat down 
together on a cotton-wood log. 

" Waal," quoth Mac, straightening his jaws 
into speaking shape, and biting off and swallow- 
ing a mouthful of hoe-cake, " sorter, an' sorter 
not, as ye might say. I've jined the army kin- 
der loose — like the lead on the eend ov a cat-o- 



110 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

nine-tails. I kin dew more execution on the 
snapper 'n I kin on tlie stock. That's 'bout the 
way I fit under Shelby at King's Mountain, fur 
ye see I got away from the Injuns in good time 
for that — an' now I'm playin' scout for old 
Nathan'l." 

"So be I ! " roared Dick, enthusiastically. 
" Giv' us yer hand agin ! Here, take a swig at 
my Bets (offering his canteen). But say, Bill, 
you've got to tell how ye did it, right off, now, 
or ye shan't hev no more hoe-cake." 

Bill Mclntyre and Dick Green are not men- 
tioned by name in Bancroft's History. But, 
like thousands of other Revolutionary heroes 
and patriots, who won only a local fame, these 
brave " Blue Grass Boys " filled an important 
place in the great struggle of their time, and 
nobly deserved their country's gratitude. They 
belonged to the army, not precisely as regularly 
enlisted soldiers, but rather as sharpshooters and 
guerrillas, and ranked among those partisan vol- 
unteers who fought for the Whig cause in the 



OF THE REVOLUTION. Ill 

great war, and did so much to free the Southern 
States from British invasion. Their efficiency 
as scouts procured them frequent appointments 
in this daring kind of service ; and their present 
meeting is in the border woods between Virginia 
and North Carohna, looking out for marauding 
parties of red-coats, whom the famous chase of 
CornwalHs after Morgan and Greene, in 1781, 
had let loose upon the settlements. 

" Mac " was dressed in a blue linsey-woolsey 
blouse, or toga, a pair of deer-skin breeches, and 
a white slouch hat. 

Dick wore red small-clothes, an old fatigue 
jacket of no color, and a militia cap that looked 
Hke a battered skillet. Both had knives and 
pistols in their belts, and carried double-barrelled 
guns. The fortunes of war that had kept 
these two friends apart so long had furnished 
each with plenty of adventures ; and the story 
Dick is just now so eager to hear concerns what 
happened to Mac when captured by the Indians 



112 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

during Gen. Sullivan's expedition against the 
Wyoming murderers. 

"Waal, comrade," quoth the knight of the 
leather breeches, speaking with his mouth full, 
" I've told that little 'xperience o' mine a good 
many times, but it's new to you, an' as soon 's I 
kin stay my stomach I'll begin." 

" Here, take some o' this cheese, an' then wet 
down agin. Jerusha ! a feller does git powerful 
hungry an' dry play in' wild-cat in this way." 

*' Dick," said Mclntyre, presently, slapping 
his companion on the knee, and working down 
his throat the last of the hoe-cake and bacon, 
" d'ye ever know how 't feels to hav' all yer 
fightin' weap'ns stole, an' be tied up, an' druv 
off, like a slave to a whippin' ? " 

"I reckon p'raps — but your story comes 
fust," replied Dick. 

"Waal, ye see, them vagabones wouldn't a' 
nabbed me alive (and Mac took a long pull at 
the canteen) if an ugly thump on the head with 
a tommyhawk hadn't sorter stunted me. How- 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 113 

somever, as 't was, I was in the bilboes 'fore I 
really knowed it, an' they'd corded my arms like 
a trussed turkey. Then they snaked me through 
the woods and over the hills for a couple o' 
whole days, till they thought the 'pale-faces' 
couldn't find 'em, an' finally they stopped in a 
holler between high rocks. The rocks was on 
three sides, tew hundred foot (or more) up, an' 
the only open was towards the way we'd come. 
By that time, I tell ye, my wind was about gin 
out — they'd tramped so all-fired fast, yer know 
— an' I reckon the ole red divils themselves 
thought ther shanks needed some rest. An 
Injun can't run forever, enny more'n we can. 
Waal, as I was sayin', they come to a halt, an sot 
down to breathe an' take somethin'. They felt 
o' me, an' concluded to loosen the cords on my 
arms a little. The bloody whelps wanted me to 
live, so they could tortur' me when they got 
back to ther tribe. But I tell ye, Dick Green, 
ef my dander warn't up, you may call me a peep- 
frog. An old fighter like me snared alive, an' 



114 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

handled like a picked gander ! 'Twarn't in na- 
tur to stan' it. Oh, thinks I ef I could only git 
a single free hand ! 

" Waal, I kep workin' my arms on the sly, an' 
I found that by a good deal o' squirmin' an' twist- 
in' an' screwin' and pullin' I could draw one 
hand eeny most out. But I jes' laid low an' 
showed nothin'. Thinks I to myself, , ' Mac, 
your time'll come — then start ! ' I kep' my eyes 
open, an' noticed pertiklerly whar they put ther 
guns, for I thought I might want 'em 'fore 
mornin'. The savages eat some jerked meat, 
and drinked some rum, an' as soon 's 'twas dark 
they got into a circle round me, an' lay down to 
sleep. I now began to fix my plan. I know'd 
if I slipped off, leavin' 'em asleep, they'd find my 
trail, an' besides I knowed 't every one o' them 
Cherry Valley butchers oughter die. That plan 
wouldn't do. Then I thought I'd tommy hawk 
'em where they lay ; but 1 wan't sure I could dew 
it quick enough. By the time I settled the fust 



OF THE KEVOLTJTION. 115 

— whoop I all the rest on 'em might be on ther 
feet — an' that ucl' be several too many to once." 

" How many was thar, Mac ? " inquired Dick, 
who was listening with deep attention. 

*' Five," said Mac, '' an' ye see they was all 
big fellers, an' I didn't care to fite more'n two 
or three on 'em at a time. So I lay thar thinkin' 
an' thinkin' ; an' I finally made up my mind that 
my surest holt 'ud be to git the villains' muskets 
inter my hands quiet like, an' see if I couldn't 
use 'em somehow so 's to count the odds agin 
ther owners. Waal, bimeby the Injuns began 
to snore, an' then I peeks up my head softly, 
an' looks round. Thar was a comb o' rock clus 
by, about breast high, an' a place behind it. 
Now, says I to myself, ' If I can only pint two 
o' them iron sojers right at the heads o' two sav- 
ages to once, so 's to hit 'em, an' hev t'other 
three guns handy, to use when the rest git up to 
see what 's the matter, I can fix 'em all.' So I 
begun to tug at my cords, an' arter a few hard 
squirms 1 worked my hands out o' the cords, 



116 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

tho' 't was a plaguey sore job. Then I crep' 
along on my hands and knees, still 's a cata- 
mount, till I got whar the muskets was. I tried 
'em all, to see ef they was loaded an' well primed, 
an' then T carried 'em all behind the rock, an' 
set three on 'em up thar side by side in secli a 
way that I could grab 'em on pretty short notice. 
All this took a good deal o' time, ye know, for 
I had to move despert slow an' keerful. But I 
rested a few minnits now to make sure I warn't 
narvous, an' to watch the red-skins' breathin ; 
then I goes to work, an' fixes t'other two mus- 
kets in the shape I want 'em. Fust, I cocked 
the guns, an' laid 'em across the rock. Then I 
sighted 'em so to cover the heads o' two Injuns 
true as a stroke o' lightnin'. I got the guns 
aimed, and managed to prop 'em so they'd stay 
aimed, for ye see I meant to pull 'em off both 
together. Thar was just moonshine enough to 
draw a bead by, an' it's well thar was, for 
't wouldn't do to make any mistakes. When 
everything was ready I stopped agin, an' waited 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 117 

a little while to stiddy my narves. Then I slid 
my hands up keerful an' firm — finger on trigger 
right an' left — then pulled ! Whang ! whang ! 
Both guns spoke the same second. The bullets 
did ther dooty, an' two big savages sprawled out 
dead. You oughter seen them other three 
prance up int' the air, tho', an' yell ! Jehu I 
they beat Bedlam let loose ! They made a rush 
for ther muskits, but the muskits warn't thar. 
1 had ^em! An' while they was a starin' an' 
wonderin' for the missin' weep'ns, I got in two 
more shots, that killed one an' mort'lly wounded 
another — so thar was only a single Injun left; 
and he'd seen enough by that time to make him 
conclude 'twarn't any place for him. I tell ye 
what, Dick, the way he lit out from thar, an' 
shook the dead leaves from his heels, was a les- 
son to a race-horse. The poor divil run 's ef the 
ghosts o' all Wyoming and Cherry Valley was 
arter him." 

" Good. What did you do next, Mac ? " 
asked Dick, laughing. 



118 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 

" I chased the feller a little ways, hootin' like 
a demon, to put a little more skeer into him ; 
then I went back an' took my pick o' the guns, 
an' what plunder an' rations I could carry, an' 
struck a bee-line for the Alleghany River." 

" Wal, old boy, here ye are all right agin'. 
Now wet yer whistle — an' confusion to all the 
country's enemies ! That's a capital story o' 
yourn, Mac, but hang me if I don't b'leeve I 
kin match it." 

''Ten to one ye kin — haw, haw! It's your 
turn now, Dick." 

" I reckon ye never heerd about that trick o' 
mine at Fort Plain last year — when the Injuns 
got me, an' I slipped out o' sight on 'em so 
quick they half believed Belzebub had swaller'd 
me." 

" 'TwarnH Belzebub, was it ? " said Mac. 

"No," quoth Dick, "but I was nigh about 
roasted, for all that." 

" Waal, let's have the story." 



CHAPTER XI. 



HIDE-AND-SEEK WITH THE BED-SKINS. 



"'Fore I commence," said Dick, "you'll 
excuse me if I make one remark. If there's 
one tiling meaner'n another in all't the British 
'av did sence they come over here, it's the hirin' 
o' them Canada an' York State Injuns to help 
'em. When they got so low that they had to 
call on a lot o' greasy, lousy, sneakin' blood- 
lovin' red niggers to do the butcherin' an' burn- 
in' that they dassn't do themselves, it was time 
to take their hats an' go home. Them's my 
sentiments — all which is r'spec'fully s'bmitted 
— an' now I've relieved my mind. 

*' Wal, when I was out scoutin' for the garri- 
son at Fort Plain, our party divided up one day, 

(119j 



120 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

for the enemy'd put ns off tlie scent, an' we 
thought we could git an inklin' quicker o' what 
they was tryin' to do, if we spread out over 
more ground. A couple crossed over, tother 
side o' the Mohawk, one struck off by the way 
o' Cobb's Gap, I was to beat round Wilderness 
Branch, an' the rest went somewhere else. I 
hadn't ben more'n an hour an' a half reconnoi- 
terin', when all of a suddent, right in the lone- 
somest part o' the woods, I heered a gun go off, 
an' a yell in three different places that lifted 
every har on my skin. ' Grate Columby ! ' thinks 
I, 'that's Injuns — he I surrounded — that's what 
I want to know ? ' 'Twan't no time t' ask ques- 
tions, but in the next breath I did a power- 
ful deal o' lookin', an' quicker'n you could whis- 
tle twice I got the hang o' the sitooation. As 
nigh's I could count in a short second thar was 
six red niggers arter me, an' one big blaggard 
whiter'n the rest, that looked like a half-breed, 
an' he Avas leadin' 'em on. They hedn't s'r- 
rounded me, an' now 't they'd showed ther 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 121 

hands I didn't mean't they should. My chances 
looked streaked, though, I'm free to say — seven 
agin one. Thar wan't one o' them hootin' var- 
mints thet ' was forty rod off, an' the nighest on 
'em was less'n twenty rod. He was the mon- 
grel I spoke on, thet 'pear'd to be chief o' the 
gang, an' 'twas this one fired the shot. The big 
scamp was dead sure he'd pepper'd me, or he 
wouldn't a hoUer'd. 

" Wal, thar didn't seem to be nothin' for me 
now but to sell my life as dear's I could. Ye 
see, I'd took care to put myself, whar I show'd 
less, when the alarm come — an' I wan't long 
about it nuther. Cover'd betwixt a couple o' 
trees I brought old Settledog to my cheek ( I 
never'll find the like o' that gun agin, Mac ) 
an' trained it as nigh's I could on the place whar 
that half-breed rascal was skulked, loadin' his 
firelock. The rest o* the crew was dodgin' 
round to get nearer, but I wanted to kill him 
fust. I waited. Time was gittin' precious. I 
see a sku^^eather poke up, ati^ know'd thar was 



122 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

my man. I see him pint out his gun. Soon's 
he showed enough o' his face to lay his eye on 
the britch I pulled trigger, an' old Settledog 
spoke. Thar was another yell, but thar warn't 
much war-whoop in it. It was the death- 
screetch o' the half-breed — an' thar the hulkin' 
villain lay, pinned through the brain." 

" That shot made the red niggers cautious — 
luckily for me, for I got time to reload. I was 
mighty near kindom-come, though, that minute, 
for jes' as I was shettin' down my primin'-pan a 
savage who'd sneaked round to the wind'ard o' 
my cover, an' got a sight, fired and snipped off 
a button o' my jacket. Quick as lightnin' I spot- 
ted him behind his gun-smoke, an' drawled on 
him — an' old Settledog dropped him too. Thar 
was five left o' the red niggers now. But they 
know'd 'xactly whar I was, ye see, an' bein' in 
range by this time they all hed ther guns ready. 
Thinks I, ' If they'll only 'low me to load ! ' 

" Aha, no ye don't, Dick Green ! I hedn't 
fairly got out my powder-plug when on they 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 123 

come. ' Hoo-oo-yi, yi, yi, yi,' an' tommyhawks a 
swingin'. Two deaths made 'em 'vengeful arter 
my scalp — an' the sneakinest varmints m the 
world ain't afraid of an empty gun, ye know. 
Wal, when I see the hull crew comin' I broke 
an' run. I had my pistol in my belt, but what 
was the use o' that just then ? I measured my 
long legs through them woods on 'bout as lively 
an elk trot as ever took a critter down hill. 
I know'd I could keep my distance, savin' I 
didn't get hit — an', I tell je, I tvent. Bang, 
said one gun, an' I heered the bullet go, zip ! 
right by my ear. I wonder'd whar the next one 
'ud go. Every few minutes I'd dodge one eye 
over my shoulder to see 'f they was all foller- 
in'. Bang, went another gun, but thar was no 
hurt done. On I went, an' on come all the In- 
juns, yellin' like wolves, an' poppin' their guns 
arter me as they got a chance. I'd kep' count, 
ye see, an' they'd fired away at me till I actoo- 
ally counted the fifth gun — an' I know'd ther 
hedn't one on 'em stopped to load. The fools 



124 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

hed emptied all ther guns! I couldn't hardly 
help la£Qn' — for none o' the shots hed liit me, 
savin' one 't whistled through my cap, an' one 
that cut the inside o' my left arm. Ye see I'd 
zig-zagged a good deal in my runnin', an' kep' 
the trees betwixt us. Wal, I looked over my 
shoulder agin, and noticed one savage consid'- 
able ahead o' the rest. ' Now,' says I, ' old pistol, 
now's yer chance — an' I whipt the weapon sud- 
dent out o' my belt, an' wheeled, an' stood stock 
still. The head Injun' didn't stop (an' maybe 
he couldn't) till he come inter neat range ; an' 
I shot him dead thar in his tracks. 

" Laws, but how 'stonished them red niggers 
was ! In a jiff every scamp on 'em was behind 
a tree. I got a chance to load old Settledog 
now. An' the Injuns they improved the time 
too. So the fight begun agin. Arter that it 
was shoot an' run, an' run an' shoot — an' 
shoot an' dodge an' load an' run. I'd ben head- 
in' for the Fort, an' I'd run already three o' the 
five mile I hed to go. When I see 't my hand 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 125 

warn't sticldy, an' I didn't make Settledog kill 
every time, I begun to weaken a little. Ye see, 
I was pretty well blowed. I could see blood on 
one o' the red niggers, but none o' the four was 
disabled. Thinks I, ' Dick, this ain't agoin' to 
do.' An' jes' as I thought that, a bullet struck 
my shoulder an' lamed it — an' right then, 's if 
that warn't bad luck enough, my foot slipped 
(the ground was gittin' horrid rough) and I 
tumbled down a guUey, lickety-smash, droppin' 
old Settledog out o' my hands ! 

"That was the time I thought I'd lost my 
scalp sartin sure. I was 'bout used up when I 
teched bottom in that holler, for the fall banged 
me bad, besides hurtin' my shoulder so 't I felt 
faint. It was a queer chance that saved me. 
Eight thar 't the foot o' the ledge, not more'n a 
yard from whar I struck, lay a grate tree that 'd 
blowed down, or keeled over itself, some time or 
'nuther ; an' quick as I looked at it I see 'twas 
holler. I warn't no very long while gittin' my 
head inside o' that old tree, and drawin' my legs 



126 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

in arter it, I'll bet a shillin'. Wal, I'd skeersly 
stowed myself when the red niggers was all at 
the top o' the gulley, hootin'. Down they come, 
an' I'll warr'nt every dog on 'em had his scalpin' 
knife out. I could hear 'em scratchin' an' jump- 
in' closter'n closter, and when one Injun lit 
right .on top o' my log I felt the goose-pimples 
rise all over me. They yelped, an' gabbled, an' 
gru:nted, an' marvelled this way an' that an' 
t'otner — an' I knowed by ther tearin' roun 't 
they hedn't seen nothin'. So I lay 's quiet 's I 
could, though I warn't extra easy. Wal, them 
red niggers sarched an' ranted up an' down that 
are guUey for a haf an hour (so the time seemed 
to me) till I heered one on 'em whoop out, an' 
they all got together and stood still. I 'xpect 
that was when they picked up my old Settledog. 
I vum, Mac, ef I hadn't been hurt I could a' 
crawled out o' my hole an' fit 'em single-handed 
ruther t' hed the lousy scamps git that gun. 
Pretty soon arter that they come round agin — 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 127 

an' what does thej^ do, all four on 'em, but set 
down right down on top o' my log. 

" Wal, they sot thar, grumbUn', an' gabblin' 
an' gruntin' wi' ther heathen talk, till I thought 
they never'd git through. Once or twice I 
could hear 'em say ' Hobommok.' I knowed 
that was the Injun word for Old Nick — an' I 
concluded they'd found a way ov 'countin' for 
whar I'd gone to. Bimeby one or two on 'em 
got up, an' I heered 'em breakin' up sticks. 
Then arter a few minutes I smelt smoke. ' Grate 
Columby ! ' thinks I, ' what now.' The var- 
mints hed built a fire right agin the log whar I 
lay!" 

"They thought 'twould make a good back- 
log," said Mac, laughing. 

" P'raps they did, but I didn't," said Dick. 
" An' when the log got hot, an' sizzled, an' the 
funk and fume come pourin' through the knot- 
holes an' worm-holes, I felt like a live eel hung 
up in a smoke-house. The heat burnt me, an' 
the smoke choked me, an' what to do I didn't 



128 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

know. I'd a' gin a fortin to cough an' sneeze 
jist once, but I knowed 'twas death to do that, 
anyhow. So I shet my eyes an' swallered, an' 
bor' it like a martyr. An' that warn't the wust 
o' my sufferin', for at fust I couldn't help horri- 
bly mistrustin' that the divils hed guessed out 
my trick, an' meant to burn me in my hole. 
But I found arterwards they was only roastin' 
some squirrels, thet I 'spose some one or t'other 
on 'em had in his pouch. 

" Finally they got ther cookin' done, an' let the 
fire go out, an' I could breath agin. But the 
old log was hot, an' I could feel myself sizzle 
long arter the las' spark was gone. Zounds, 
Mac, / can feel it now ! The soak o' sweat, an' 
the smart o' the roastin't I got in that old holler 
tree, come back fresh every time I tell on't. 
Wal, the Injuns et ther dinner, an' then went 
to smokin' ther pipes ! Thar I lay still as a 
dead bear, achin', and sufferin', an' wonderin' in 
my soul 'f they never'd go. Sometimes I could 
hear them heathens walkin' round, an' some- 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 129 

times I knowed they was settin' on the log. 
Ugh ! It makes me squirm to think what tough 
waitin' that was I It 'peared to me three or 
four hours 'fore them blasted red niggers finally 
cleared out — an' even then I couldn't be sartin 
they'd all gone till I'd waited an' harked a good 
w^hile longer. But when I couldn't hear nothin' 
more, an' concluded thar warn't nothin' more to 
hear, I let myself out of that log, like a snake 
crawlin' out o' his skin ; and found the coast 
clear. I felt pretty skakey, but I sarclied 
round sometime for old Settledog 'fore I went, 
'Twan't no use, though. Beyend doubt the In- 
juns lied stole it. So I turned my toes towards 
Fort Plain, an' by sundown I was among 
friends." 

'' That ivas a lucky escape — an' a narrer one 
— wan't it, Dick ! " quoth Mac reflectively. 

" You're rioht. An' now I vote thet we both 

o 

turn our toes to headquarters. \Ve shan't find 
no red-coats' trail round here, I reckon. Come 
Mac." 



130 



SOLDIEES AND PATKIOTS. 



After looking at the priming of tlieir guns, 
and picking their flints, so as to be prepared for 
any sudden emergency, the two comrades rose 
and made their way to camp. 





CHAPTER XII. 



king's mountain. 



" Then you were there, helping fight the 
British Major, eh, Caesar?" asked Mr. Pinckney, 
of an old, shrewd house-slave, as he was talking 
with him one day about the battles in South Car- 
olina. 

^''Wusldar^ Guess I warn't nowhar else, 
onole King's-Mountain day." 

" Then you know what were the dispositions 
of the two armies on that memorable occa- 
sion?" 

"Disposition? Yah. De disp'sition of de 

red-coats wuz to whip us, and our disp'sition wuz 

not to let 'em. He! he! he!" 

(131) 



132 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

''No, no, you don't understand me, Caesar. 
I mean in what manner or order was the attack 
made ; where were the different American cap- 
tains, with their several companies, stationed? " 

Caesar scratched his head and considered, and 
finally referred the question to '• Sarjint Homes," 
who luckily happened along. " He wuz dar, an' 
he kin 'scribe dat battle better 'an me." 

" Well, Sergeant, I should be happy to have a 
narrative of that affair, and as juu were in it you 
can relate it correctly." 

Sergeant Homes cheerfully comphed with Mr. 
Pinckney's request, and as he began his story, 
old Csesar stood by to vouch for the facts, and 
add characteristic comments of his own. 

" Major Ferguson, with a force of eleven hun- 
dred British soldiers, was encamped on King's 
Mountain. The chief business of these lieroes 
was to range through the northern part of the 
State, and steal all the cattle, sheep and provis- 
ions they could find, to supply Cornwallis' arjny 
with food." 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 133 

" Dat 's true ! " put in Csesar. " Golly ! 
warn't we mad when dey druv off Massa Sam- 
uel's best cow ! " 

'' We concluded to stop their thieving," con- 
tinued the sergeant, •' so we collected a little 
army, of about nine hundred men, and started 
out to give them a lesson. We chose a good 
time, and found them all in quarters, on the 
mountain-top. Just before we arrived there, we 
captured an express, who was carrjdng dispatches 
from Ferguson to Cornwallis. We opened the 
dispatches, and read them aloud at the head of 
the line. In them he said, ' I hold a position on 
the King's ?vIountain that all the Whigs and 
rebels out of jail cannot take.' 

" The ' Vv^higs and rebels ' received this w^ilh 
* three groans,' and very soon the word of com- 
mand went round, ' Pick jouv flints ! prime 
fresh ! All ready to fight I ' " 

" Yah, yah ! " chuckled old Csesar, " an' dey 
all minded dat order de fus' time. I 'member 



134 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

how Massa Samuel, an' cle res' iiv 'em, picked 
an' packed, an' got up an' got !" 

" We passed on quickly, till we reached the 
base of the mountain," continued the sergeant. 
" Then we were divided into three companies or 
divisions, so as to ascend on different sides of the 
mountain at once, and surround them on the top 
as w^e came together. When Colonel Sevier's 
column w^as seen on the right, steadily advanc- 
ing, the British came down upon them with great 
fury in a regular charge. Sevier's men did no- 
bly, but they could not resist such a terrible 
avalanche of bayonets and balls. Before they 
were completely routed, however, our division 
under Cleaveland and Williams appeared on the 
left and poured such a storm into the British 
ranks that they were obliged to relinquish the 
pursuit of Sevier, and fall back on the defensive. 

"Meeting Cleaveland's column at an advan- 
tage, they succeeded in driving them down the 
hill ; but by that time Sevier's men had recov- 
ered, and returned to the fight. These galled 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 185 

tlie enemy so severely in their turn, that they 
gave lip the chase of Cleaveland, and wheeled 
upon their first antagonists. Receiving rein- 
forcements from within the lines, the British 
made their next charge against our centre, under 
Campbell and Shelby, and drove them nearly to 
the bottom of the hill. But now the right and 
left columns of the Americans had rallied, and 
come back to the encounter, maddened by the 
loss of so many of their brave comrades, and de- 
termined to avenge their death. The British, 
finding themselves attacked in flank and rear, 
relinquished the pursuit of Campbell and Shelby, 
and attempted to reascend the hill. They found 
it bloody work. Murderous volleys poured in 
upon them, from the right and left, so that death 
met them at every step. When Campbell and 
Shelby heard the roar of musketry upon both 
flanks of the enemy, they supposed the British 
were retreating, and turned themselves to pur- 
sue, with loud shouts of victory. But the enemy 
were not vet conquered. They gathered all 



/ , 



1C6 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

their force, and made one more desperate cha'gc. 
But it vras all in vain. The Americans now 
stood their ground, and not only that, they 
pushed the British so sorely as to force them into 
their encampment. Then came the fiercest 
struggle of the day. The British were com- 
pletely hemmed in on all sides. Vv^ith bayonets, 
and with butcher-knives fastened to their guns, 
they charged upon this narrowing circle of pa- 
triots with the energy of despair. But the Amer- 
icans loaded rapidl}^ and aimed deliberately, each 
marksman bringing down his victim at nearly 
every discharge." 

" Dat's so," chimed in old Caisar. " When 
we penned 'em in dar, I picked out an ossifer, 
an' whop ! He dropped, an' nebber knowed 
what hurt him." 

"While the battle raged at this fearful rate," 
continued the sergeant, " and the enemy were 
rapidly getting the worst of it, we heard tlie 
Englisli commander order his soldiers to mount, 
and crush the rebels. There was a pause of a 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 107 

moment. Instead of the roar of musketry, the 
ominous click of the gun-locks spoke, in sign 
that brave hearts were waiting for the worst to 
come. The next instant Ferguson and Dupois- 
tre, with their whole force of British horse and 
foot, burst like an avalanche down the moun- 
tain's side. 

"But every American rifle was loaded, and 
almost before the enemy were fairly out of their 
entrenchments, a stream of fiery death met them 
fall in their faces. Ferguson was in front, and 
fell at the first discharge, with seven mortal 
wounds. Dupoistre's regulars came down fiercely 
with bayonets and sabres, but even more fiercely 
the patriots met the shock of the onset. Not 
Agincourt nor Cressy, nor the bloodiest field in 
chivalric history, remembers a more terrible 
clash of arms. Had the heavens rained British 
bayonets, our determined troops would not have 
given way. Like lions they rushed to the car- 
nage ; like martyrs they went to the death. 
Officers and soldiers together, with bloodshot 



138 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

eyes and parched tongues, faced tlie headlong 
foe. Whig and Tory fought foot to foot, and 
felt the hot pantmg of each other's breath. 

" It was an awful struggle. The tide of battle 
ebbed and flowed in blood. The fate of the 
day hung in even balance — and then it turned. 
The hands of Freedom had dealt the heaviest 
blows. A cry for quarter was heard, and the 
Tory ranks showed the white flag. Victory! 
victory ! The enemy threw down their arms, 
and patriot troops were once more conquerors I 

" Of the over eleven hundred British and 
Tories, two hundred and forty were killed, and 
two hundred wounded. More than seven hun- 
dred were taken prisoners of war, with all their 
arms and ammunition. Not one of them escaped. 
As they composed about one fourth of the army 
of Cornwallis, their capture was a severe blow to 
the British army in the South." 

" Yah," added old Caesar, " an' I reckon it 
stopped all dere cattle-stealin', too." 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 



139 



" You think it served them right, do you ? " 
said Mr. Pincknej^ 

" Sarve 'em right, Massa Pinckney ? Yah ! 
Red-coats no bizness yere, anyhow, stealin' tings, 
an' shootin' men-folks — an' talkin' sassy to de 
wimmin ! Ugh ! Glad um gone ! We no 
want 'em." 






CHAPTER XIII. 

MAD ANTONY. 

The following letter, from a young volunteer 
in the American army to his mother at home, 
gives a graphic description of one of the most 
gallant and thrilling engagements in the whole 
war of the Revolution. 

The scene of tlie battle — w^hich was Gen. 
Wayne's most brilliant exploit, and helped to 
give him the epithet of " Mad Antony " for his 
dashing bravery — was near the Hudson River, 
forty-two miles north of New York. 

'' In Camp, Stony Point, July 17, 1779. 

" Dear Mother : 

'' I AM well enough to Avrite, though 
(140) 



SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 141 

a wound in my left shoulder reminds me that 
something has happened, and that it's a wonder 
I'm alive. 

We had a fearful time night before last 
storming the old Fort here. It Avas by all odds 
the most terrible fight I've been in since I en- 
listed. You know tlie British took the fort on 
Stony Point from us. Well, General Washing- 
ton was determined to get it back again. So 
what does he do but order General Wayne to 
undertake the job. He was just the man for 
the work, for he's keen and shrewd as a fox, 
and bold as a lion. You ought to see him in a 
battle once! He'll face anything — and there 
can't be a coward in the ranks when ' Mad An- 
tony' leads. I don't believe Old Nick himself 
would stop him, or his soldiers, when he's fairly 
started on a charge. 

" After marching fourteen miles over mount- 
ains, across gullies and through muddy swamps, 
we came in sight of the fort about eight o'clock 



142 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

in the evening. It was a hard march, and we 
were tired. But the worst was to come. 

" General Wayne divided his little army into 
two divisions, so that they could attack the fort 
on opposite sides at the same time. In front of 
each of these divisions was a van-guard of a 
hundred and fifty men, all volunteers, and in 
front of each van-guard was a skirmisher squad 
of twenty men. They were to go ahead and 
clear the ground for the others, by tearing down 
the tree-fences, brush and rubbish which the 
enemy had piled up to stop the way. 

'' One of these advance companies was under 
the command of Col. Fleury, and the other was 
led by Major Posey. When everything was 
ready we commenced marching towards the fort. 
It was situated on high land and was well pro- 
tected with walls, abattis, and deep trenches 
filled with water. We started about half past 
eleven. As everything was to be done with the 
point of the bayonet, we weren't allowed to 
load our guns. The order was to march with 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 143 

empty muskets ; not to speak a word ; make no 
noise — and not a man dodge or run, under pain 
of death ! The officers gave all their commands 
in whispers. 

" By good luck we had found a black fellow 
who sold strawberries at the fort, and knew the 
countersign, which, curiously enough, happened 
to be, th^t night, ' The fort is ours.' Well, 
this black fellow was sent ahead of the skir- 
mishers, along the causeway that led over the 
flooded marsh at the foot of the hill. The out- 
post sentry on guard there received the coun- 
tersign all right, and while he stood talking 
with the darkey two of our men suddenly 
grabbed and gagged him. So we all marched 
without a challenge over the causeway to the 
bottom of the hill under the fort. Everything 
was as still as death. Our officers formed us ac- 
cording to the plan, and we began to go up the 
hill, one division on one side, and one on the 
other. Moving silent and cautious, we reached 
the next sentry line, and then crack went a 



144 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

picket gun — and awa}^ on the left, crack ! went 
anotlier. Seeing we were discovered, we pushed 
forwards at double quick, and now we could 
hear the ringing voice of General Wayne cheer- 
inof and urGfino^ on .his men — for it was no use 
to keep still any longer. The whole garrison 
was up, and the terrible work begun. Oh, how 
the ramparts blazed, and how the bullets whis- 
tled among us in the dark ! The limbs of the 
trees cracked ; the men shouted ; the wounded 
groaned and fell. But we rushed on, for ' Mad 
Antony' put courage into us. Our advance 
runners tore away obstructions and pulled down 
barricades. On we rushed through the abattis 
and up to the intrenchments. We clambered 
swiftly on the ramparts and drove the Red-coats 
in at the point of the bayonet, they shooting 
down our men every minute as they gave back, 
and disputing every inch of ground. General 
Wayne was wounded in the head and fell, but 
he soon staggered up, and resting on one knee 



OF THE BEVOLUTION. 145 

shouted, ' Forward men ! carry me into the fort ! 
I'll die at the head of my column !' I was near 
him, so I helped two or three others carry him 
in. Our men had fought their way into the 
center of the fort, and there we met Col. 
Fleury's division which had come up on the 
other side. Gen. Wayne's plan had worked 
perfectly, and not a single movement had failed. 
Fleury struck the British flag with his own 
hands, and hoisted ours in its place. Then the 
enemy surrended — though 'twas like pulling 
teeth to own they'd been beaten. When we 
found that the fort was really ours, I tell 3^ou, 
mother, we hollered and yelled and shouted 
loud enough to be heard half way down to New 
York. 

" Out of our eight hundred we had fifteen 
killed and eighty-three wounded. The enenn^ 
had sixty-three killed. We took several cannons, 
and mortars, a great many muskets, shells, shot 
and tents, and about five hundred and fifty pris- 



146 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

oners. We call it a splendid victory. We are 
going to blow up the fort and destroy all the de- 
fences, so that it shall be of no more use to the 
British. 

'' Don't feel anxious about my wound, for it's 
a slight one, and I shall soon be round again. 
So w ill ' Mad Antony.' 

" From Your affectionate Son, 



So important was the capture of Stony Point 
regarded by Congress, and so highly did they es- 
timate the heroism of the officers, that they 
ordered thiee emblematical medals to be pre- 
pared and given respectively to General Wayne, 
Colonel Fleury, and Colonel Stewart. 

In addition to this, Wayne received the most 
flattering commendations from numerous gentle- 
men, eminent for their intelligence and position 
both in civil and military life. In fact, Benja- 
min Rush wrote to him, saying : — 

*' There was but one thing wanting in the 



OF THE EET^OLTJTION. 



147 



result of your late attack upon Stony Point to 
complete your happiness ; and that is, the wound 
you received should have affected your hearing ; 
for I fear you will be stunned through those 
organs with your own praises." 




CHAPTER XIV. 

Washington's stratagem. 

On the fourth of July, 1856, a gentleman and 
his wife were stopping at Yonkers, New York, 
a romantic town on the eastern bank of the 
beautiful Hudson. They had attended a juve- 
nile celebration held in honor of the day, and, 
returning from this, had accepted an invitation 
to visit an old, colonial mansion that stood near 
the river. This house was surrounded by rows 
of noble trees, like tall, military sentinels set to 
protect it, and between the openings of their 
shade beautiful gardens and smooth, green 
lawns stretched away on different sides, smiling 
in the sun. The beds and walks were free from 
weeds, and neatly trimmed, giving evidence of 

(148) 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 140 

the constant vigilance and care bestowed upon 
tliem, and the borders of shiny, wax-leaved box, 
seemed the thrifty growth of many years. As 
the couple strolled about the grounds, the guide 
who accompanied them and pointed out the his- 
toric localities, told them an interesting tradition, 
connected with the mansion itself. 

" Did 3^ou say that General Washington once 
used to visit here ? " asked the lady. 

" I did, madam. AVashington had his head- 
quarters some miles further up the river, but it 
is said that he and the family residing here were 
old acquaintances, and being much attached to 
them, and charmed by the rare social attractions 
at the mansion, the tired warrior loved to come 
here for an hour of recreation, as often as his 
pressing duties would allow. 

" The father of this family seemed to feel the 
warmest personal friendship for Washington, 
and though he assumed no active part in the 
war, he either professed sympathy for the patriot 
cause, or declared himself strictly a conscien- 



150 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

tious neutral. His treatment of the general was 
always marked by affectionate cordiality, and 
the courtesy of an old-fashioned gentleman." 

" At that time were the British stationed any- 
where very near this place?" asked the gentle- 
man. 

" Not very near, and still not so very far away. 
This was the border-land between the two ar- 
mies. The Americans were up the river, at and 
around West Point, and the British were below. 
Each party, therefore, could make excursions 
into this part of the country. Well, to come to 
the tradition, as I have heard it related : 

" On one occasion, Washington was invited to 
dine at this house on a particular day and hour ; 
and the invitation was pressed with such ear- 
nestness as to arouse the suspicions of the Amer- 
ican commander, that some special design was 
concealed under it. These suspicions were greatly 
increased when the master of the mansion inti- 
mated to him that his habit of bringing a guard 
with him when he came here was a useless pre- 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 151 

caution, and seemed to imply a want of confi- 
dence in the good faith of his host ; and 
ex23ressed the hope that he would come the next 
time unattended. 

" Pondering over this singular request, and 
connecting it with the man's anxious manner, 
Washington finally could not help believing that 
some treachery was intended. He accepted the 
invitation, but at the same time determined to 
plan his visit in such a way as to defeat any vil- 
lainy which might be meditated. The time 
fixed upon for the dinner was two o'clock ; but 
Washington arrived an hour before the time. 

" After the usual greetings and courtesies 
were passed, the host led his distinguished visi- 
tor to the piazza for a sociable walk. The quick 
eye of the general soon discovered an unusual ner- 
vous restlessness in his companion's manner, not 
at all consistent with tranquility of mind. Why 
was the man so preoccupied and ab^nt — so full 
of starts and incoherencies ? Why did he every 
now and then cast furtive glances in a certain 



152 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

direction? A variety of close questions and 
keen remarks on the part of the general, uttered, 
however, as if they were purely incidental, 
plainly increased this appearance of agitation. 
Washington noticed, too, that the man quailed 
as often as he caught his eye. He was now 
more than ever convinced that his professed 
friend was a traitor, and had j)lotted some per- 
fidy against him. As yet there was no proofs 
but that was only a question of time — and he 
longed for the time to come. Presently the dis- 
tant clatter of horses' feet was heard, and the 
eyes of both the men turned in the direction of 
the sound. 

" Just over the brow of that hill (and the 
guide pointed to an eminence a short distance 
away), they saw a company of dragoons coming 
down the road on a brisk trot." 

" Were they British or Americans ? " asked 
the lady. 

" They were dragoons in British uniforms." 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 153 

" O, dear ! " replied the lady. "And hoiv did 
Washington escape ? " 

" I will tell you," answered the guide. '• The 
horsemen quickened their pace, as they ap- 
proached the house, and they rode at a full gallop 
straight towards the piazza where the two men 
stood. 

" ' Bless me ! ' exclaimed Washington, ' what 
cavalry are these coming so near ? ' 

" ' A party of British light horse,' replied his 
host, ' who are sent here for my protection.' 

" Doubtless the traitor felt greatly relieved 
now that his plot seemed about to be consum- 
mated. 

*' ' British horse sent here while I am your 
guest ? ' said Washington, with a sternness and 
startling emphasis which made the other recoil 
before him. 

'' * What does this mean, sir ? ' added Wash- 
ington, with increased energy. During this 
short colloqu}^, the soldiers had reined up at the 
gate, and began to dismount. The perfidious 



154 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

host, supposing that these horsemen were, of 
course, his party, in the moment of his hasty tri- 
umph, exposed himself. He familiarly approached 
Washington, and laying his hand upon his shoul- 
der, said to him, ' General, you are my pris >ner ! ' 

" That was the crowning part of the plot this 
disguised Tory had been playing — and with (as 
he now believed) such perfect success. The 
American commander was trapped — betrayed 
into British hands. His esca]3e seemed impossi- 
ble. 

"Never was man more completely mistaken. 
As he uttered the words ' You are my prisoner,' 
Washington, instead of exhibiting the least 
alarm, calmly replied, 'I think not, but, sir, I 
know that you are mine. Officer, arrest this 
traitor ! ' 

" Imagine the astonishment of the treacherous 
Tory, when he saw the ' British ' officer, instead 
of seizing the American general, proceed immedi- 
ately to obey his orders ! Before he could recover 
from his amazement, he found himself a pinioned 



OF THE DEVOLUTION. 155 

prisoner in the hands of the soldiers. He then 
learned, to his terrible chagrin, that these dra- 
cfoons were American soldiers in British uni- 
forms ! 

" It seems that Washington, in order to satisfy 
liimself whether his suspicions were correct, had 
ordered a company of his own soldiers to disguise 
themselves in this manner, and appear at the 
mansion punctually at a quarter before two 
o'clock. As we have seen, Washington's suspi- 
cions proved to be Avell founded. The false 
friend, outwitted by his intended victim, had 
been caught in his own trap ; and now nothing 
remained for Inm but to follow his captors to the 
American camp, and expect t!;e fate of a 
traitor." 

" Did the man ever make any confession ? " 
•asked the gentleman. 

" Yes," replied the guide. " He confessed that 
he had been offered a large sum of money, if he 
w^ould betray Washington into the power of the 
British, and at two o'clock the house was to 



156 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS. 

liave been suiToundecI by a party of the king's 
troops, sent to make the general a prisoner." 

" A very narrow escape ! " said the gentleman. 

"Yes, and the traitor deserved hanging, as 
much as if he hadn't failed," said the guide. 
" The will w^as as bad as the deed, to my think- 
ing."' 

" What was done with him? " asked the lady. 

" Not much of anything, madam. Washing- 
ton at first intended to make him suffer severely, 
but the man's family and friends interceded so 
powerfully that he finally decided not to proceed 
to extremes. He kept him a while in prison, 
and then pardoned him, and sent him home." 




CHAPTER XV. 



AN AKMY CAUGHT KAPPIKG. 



On the 24th of December, 1776, two ragged 
but brave-hearted American sohliers, comrades 
of the same compaii}', were engaged beside their 
camp-fire in cleaning their guns preparatory to 
some important service. 

" I tell 3'e what, Zeb," said one, " that scratch 

on Long Island was a bad affair for our side. 

The old gin'ral was all right, and if he could 

ha' been everywhere to once, it might 'a turned 

out different. But, I say, some o' his under 

officers ought to be cashiered. Wliy didn't old 

Sullivan keep that furder pass well guarded ? if 

he had, the British wouldn't uv turned his left 

(157) 



158 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

and got in his rear. That did the mischief. For 
wen they got behind us, them Dutchmen was in 
front, and there we was between two fires. 
Didn't we run for it ? first one way, then t'other, 
and brought up agin the enemy's fire every 
time ! If we hadn't pitched right through the 
reg'lar's column, with our lives in our teeth, 
we 'd never found our way to camp agin." 

'' That 's so, Zeke," replied his comrade. 
"And what a fool old Howe was that he didn't 
follow up his chance. They might 'a drove us 
into East River, an' made nigh the hull on us 
prisoners. But he let nine thousand slip — and 
here we be. Wall, I'm sorry our friends in the 
country feel chop-fallen. 'Tain't the wust that 
ever was. We can't expect to beat every time 
we fight. We've got to risk the chances of 
war." 

" Tut, tut there, Zeb," said Zeke, with a warn- 
ing expression in his eye. " Expectin' to get 
licked sometimes, ain't safe soldiership, to my 
thinkin'. The way is, to go into battle every 



OF THE REVOLUTION. lo9 

time, expectin'' to tvhip I Then you feel stroug 
enough to do it, and not without. Meet the 
inimy, and think he's goin' to give 3^ou a lickin' ! 
Pooh ! no man will fight wutli a fo'pence wi' 
that kind o' liver in him ! " 

" Give it up, then, an' p'raps ye're right, com- 
rade," said Zeb. " Still, I don't see why all our 
friends should be so dumfounded and down in 
the mouth jist because we've lost one battle." 

" it was a great disapp'intment," said Zeke, 
'-'• but no matter. Perhaps w^e'll make it all up 
agin to-morrer." 

''Do you know where we're ordered?" 

" No, but it 's pretty well known t' we're go- 
in' to make an attack somewheres. British ain't 
lookin' for us, now, ye know." 

''Wall, I'll trust old Gin'ral Washington," 
said Zeb, giving the last rub to his gun-barrel. 
" If the rest '11 obey his orders, and do their 
duty, we'll come out ahead, sure." 

In the middle of the following night, the two 
soldiers, with their thousands of comrades, were 



160 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

roused from sleep b}^ the loud drum-roll, and 
knew that the hour for active duty was at hand. 

'' Great guns ! " shuddered Zeb, as he leaped 
out of his blanket, '' but it 's a bitter cold night, 
though." 

" Not only cold," replied Zeke, " but it storms 
like chain shot. Hear how the hail rattles down 
on the old tent." 

There vAas no time for comments, however. 
It was the soldier's business to obey. 

In a few minutes, they were standing shoulder 
to shoulder with their company, ready to march 
at the word of command. 

The object which Washington had in view on 
this occasion was to attack all the British posts 
on the Delaware River at the same instant, and 
thus drive the enem}^ from New Jersey oi- take 
them prisoners of war. By Washington's plan. 
General Irvine was to cross the river at Trenton 
Ferry, and t:ike possession of a road just below 
the town, so as to cut off the escape of the 
British by the bridge there, or along the shore. 



OF THE DEVOLUTION. 161 

General Cadwallader was to pass at Dunk's 
Ferry, and take Mount Holly, then in the pos- 
session of the English, whilst Washington him- 
self, assisted bj Generals Sullivan and Green, 
would cross nine miles above Trenton, Aviili four 
thousand men, and march at once upon the 
town. 

General Irvine attempted to carry out the j)art 
assigned him, but the river was so blocked up 
wdth ice that he found it impossible to cross. 
General Cadwallader met with the same diffi- 
culty. He succeeded, however, in getting some 
of his infantry over, but finding it impossible to 
follow with his artillery, he recalled the infantry, 
and gave up the effort. Washington himself 
succeeded, though with great hazard and hard- 
ship. Having crossed the river, he divided his 
force into two divisions. One of these divisions 
advanced tow^ards Trenton b}' a road along the 
shore of the river, and the other marched by the 
Pennington road. As the distance to Trenton 
by either of these roads was about tlie same, 



162 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

both divisions were expected to reach the town 
at the same time. AVashington, therefore, gave 
orders that each division should attack the out- 
posts of the enemy so soon as they were reached, 
and drive them in, and then follow closely upon 
them into the town. Thus the Americans could 
fall upon the main body of the enemy so sud- 
denly that they would not be able to form for 
their defence. Zeb and Zeke were in the divis- 
ion under Washington. They suffered extremely 
wdth tlie cold and wet in crossing the river, and 
we may be sure they found that nine miles' 
march, from four o'clock in the morning to eight, 
no children's play. At eight o'clock the report 
of a musket was heard at the head of the col- 
umn. 

*' We've reached 'em ! " said Zeke, in a low 
tone, to his elbow-man. 

''Hark!" whispered Zeb, in reply; "there 
goes a volley. We've come upon the picket- 
guard." 

Rapidly the few words of command ran 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 163 

through the lines. Every officer was on the 
alert, and the soldiers pressed forward with 
quick and resolute step. They all knew their 
general's plan at last, and felt eager for victory. 

''Now we shall have it,'' said Zeb. 

*' And we'll give it to 'em," said Zeke. 

As the firing increased at the head of the 
column, the whole division became Avonderfully 
excited. Presently the report of musketr}^ was 
heard from another point. 

'' That's t' other division," said Zeb. '' They've 
arriv' just in the nick o' time. I knew they 
would ! " 

"Ha!" broke out Zeke, "see that runaway 
red-coat sentinel firin' from that wander. Lennne 
pick him off." Zeke levelled his gun and fired. 

" There they run ; see 'em, see em ! " shouted 
Zeb, taking aim at three or four of the picket 
guard, who were retreating behind a barn. 

In this way the Americans advanced, fired on 
from windows, and from behind w^alls and build- 
ings, but with little damage, till the outposts 



164 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

were all passed, and the guards killed or driven 
in. 

Colonel Rawle, a brave British officer, seeing 
the sentinels retreating, and the Americans ad- 
vancing, paraded his men, and endeavored to 
make a stand against the Yankees. But it was 
of no avail. 

" He'll stan' till he falls," muttered Zeke and 
Zeb, and pointed their muskets at him. Several 
other soldiers did the same. 

Just at that moment a ball struck Colonel 
Eavvle, and he sank, mortally wounded. 

" Told you so," continued Zeke. " Them 
red-coats had better give it up, or they'll all go 
the same way." 

The enemy, seeing their officer fall, and hav- 
ing no hope of resisting successfully the onset 
of the Americans, commenced filing off to the 
right, so as to retreat and gain the road to 
Princeton. The vigilant eye of Washington saw 
the manoeuvre. He immediately ordered a de- 
tachment to head them off, whilst he advanced 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 165 

rapidly in pursuit. His object was to surround 
them. 

The plan succeeded. The retreating soldiers, 
in trying to flee from one jDortion of the Amer- 
ican army, found themselves rushing upon the 
bayonets of another. Soon they were encom- 
passed on all sides, and, finding retreat in any 
direction impossible, and tlie Americans pouring 
in a fire of musketry upon them from all points, 
surrendered themselves prisoners of war. 

" Hurrah ! " shouted Zeke. 

" Hurrah! " l^allooed Zeb. 

'' Hurrah ! " roared all the American troops. 

Green and Sullivan, arriving by the other 
road, had done prompt and gallant work. All 
resistance had been overpowered. The artillery 
of the British had been seized, and the royal 
army in Trenton was hopelessly demoralized. 
In a very short time the fighting was over, and 
victory perched on the patriot banners. About 
a thousand of the enemy were made prisoners 



166 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

of war. Six excellent brass cannon, twelve 
Imnclred small arms, Avith three standards, be- 
sides baggage, etc., were taken by Wasliington. 
Five hundred more of the enemy, among whom 
was a company of cavalry, would also have been 
taken if General Irvine had succeeded in cross- 
ing the river. They escaped by the road which 
his division should have guarded. 

After the battle was over, our two Yankees 
sat down with their company (in comfortable 
quarters for the first time in many weeks), and 
chatted merrily over their breakfast. 

"Ah, Zeb, when we got Rawle and his Dutch- 
men there between our fires, I hnowed thej^'d 
have to s'rrender." 

" Well ye might know," quoth Zeb. " Haw, 
haw ! Think this '11 'bout makeup for thebast- 
in' we got on Long Island, hey ? " 

" Jist about fair an' square. And it '11 make 
the hull country laff an' grow fat," said Zeke. 
" I tell ye it 'U warm up their hearts like a spring 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 167 

rain. Wonder how many were killed ; do jou 
know?" 

*' There couldn't a' been manj^ ; tliej didn't 
Stan' long enough. I heern Corporal Smike say 
there was about twenty o' the Hussians killed, 
and two on our side. Thar was two more o' our 
poor fellers got froze to death." 

General Washington sent the captured Hes- 
sians into the interior of Pennsylvania, allowing 
them to keep their baggage, and gave orders 
that they should be treated with humanity. 
Such kindness from a conquerar greatly sur- 
prised the Hessians, and awakened in their minds 
a high degree of veneration for Washington, 
whom they called a vei-i/ good rebel. 

A short time after this successful enf^^asrement, 
which astonished the British as much as it en- 
couraged the Americans, the following quaint 
and pithj^ song was sung by the Yankees with 
great glee. 



1G8 SOLDIEES AFD PATRIOTS 

BATTLE OF TRENTON. 

On Christmas-day in seventy-six, 

Our ragged troops, with bayonets fixed. 

Their march on Trenton made. 
The Del'ware, see ! the boats below ! 
The light obscured by hail and snow ! 

But not a man afraid. 

We marched to fight the Hessian band. 
That dared invade fair freedom's land. 

And quarter in that place. 
Great Washington he led us on, 
Whose gallant flag, in storm and sun 

Had never known disgrace. 

All silently the stream we cross'd. 
Pelted with sleet, and numb with frost, 

But eager for the fray. 
Greene on the left at six began ; 
The right was led by Sullivan ; 

We marched till dawn of day, 

" To arms ! " the sunrise terror spread ; 
" The Yanks are risen from the dead, 

And thundering into town ! " 
Some scampered here, some scampered there, 
They fired their bullets in the air. 

And flung their muskets down. 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 1G9 

Twelve hundred fools of British pence, 
With all their colors, guns and tents. 

Our trophies were that day. 
The frolic o'er, the bright canteen 
Went round convivial hands between. 

To drive dull care away. 

Now brothers all, ye patriot band, 
Sing glad deliverance from the hand 

Of British tyranny. 
And as our life is but a span, 
We'll kiss the tankard while we can. 

For Trenton's victory. 

It is evident, from this song, that teetotalisni 
was not popular at that time, and, unfortunately, 
it seldom is in camps in time of war. 

Several other songs were composed on the 
same battle. One of them contained a sarcastic 
stanza on Hessian courage. One of the stand- 
ards taken from the Hessians bore a Latin 
motto which signified, " I know no dangei-," and 
which was not displayed in the battle Avhere the 
standards were surrendered. To this boasting 
motto the following verse refers : 



170 



SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 



" The man who submits, without striking a blow, 
May be said, in a sense, no danger to know; 
I pray, then, what harm, by the humble submission 
At Trenton, was done by the standard of Hessian ? 





CHAPTER XVI. 



A BOLD MANCEUVBE. 



" Well, Zeke, I reckon our work for this cam- 
paign ain't done yit. I heern that Cornwallas is 
in the Jerseys, and if that's so our Gin'ral 'ill be 
arter him, or Fm no Yankee." 

•' The sooner the better," repUed Zeb, as he 
stripped off the skin of a coon which he had re- 
cently shot. " T should like to see some o' them 
red-coats shook out o' their shoes, so I might git 
a pair. But till then I s'pose I shall have to 
wear this skin on one foot, and slioot another for 
its mate, if I can. Howsumever, I ought to be 
thankful, for some of our poor fellers ain't so well 
off as this." 

'' I know it," said Zeke. '' I wonder what 

(HI) 



172 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

Congress is thinkin' on that they don't supply 
the army with clothes. Some o' the troops are 
'most naked." 

" Yes ; and the wust o' the hull on't is bein' 
without shoes an' stockin's. Walkin' in the snow 
an' slush, and on the ice, barefoot, ain't no lux- 
ury. There's some in our comp'ny now, cut an' 
froze so bad they leave blood-marks every step 
they take. If I don't git another coon or skunk 
skin to make another mocassin, t'will be the same 
with me." 

" Hark 1 hark ! ther's an alarm — we've got to 
report on duty, barefoot or not." 

Both the soldiers rushed to their tents, seized 
their guns, and ran to their colors. The whole 
camp was in motion. Drums and trumpets were 
sounding, and soon the news spread throughout 
the army that Cornwallis was approaching Tren- 
ton, with a large number of troops. Distant re- 
ports of muskets Avere heard. These increased in 
rapidity, showing that a skirmish had begun be- 
tween the advance guard of the enemv, and the 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 173 

American outposts. As the sound continued to 
come nearer, it became evident that the outposts 
were being driven in, and in a short time Corn- 
wallis, with his whole army, would be upon 
them. It was nou^ late in the afternoon, and 
Washington gave orders for all his troops to re- 
treat across a small stream called the Assum- 
pinck, which ran through the town. 

He immediately planted some cannon at favor- 
able points on the bank of this stream, to check 
the British if they should attempt to follow. 
Soon the scarlet uniforms of the English were 
seen approaching. On, on they came, with the 
evident design of crossing the stream, and at- 
tacking the main body of the Americans. They 
arrived at a fording-place of the Assumpinck, and 
attempted to cross. But the cannon of the 
Yankees annoyed them so much at this point 
that they relinquished the attempt, and tried it 
at another place. But Washington had antici- 
pated them there, and from another quarter 
opened on them such a galling fire as induced 



174 SOLDIEKS AND PATKIOTS 

them to abandon this attempt, also. Finding no 
place where they could cross without incurring 
considerable loss, Cornwallis called back his 
troops, and concluded to give his soldiers a 
night's rest, with the intention of attacking the 
Yankees the next day. So the two armies en- 
camped on the opposite sides of the stream, in 
full sight of each other, expecting bloody work 
on the morrow. 

Washington was now placed in an extremely 
critical condition. The army of Cornwallis was 
in every respect superior to his own. Nothing 
but a narrow, fordable stream separated them. 
Early to-morrow he would undoubtedly be at- 
tacked, and, with his comparatively feeble force, 
he would probably be defeated, and if so, his 
army would be likely to be destroyed or taken 
prisoners. This would leave the whole of New 
Jersey in the possession of the British ; Philadel- 
phia would be open to them. The whole nation 
would be greatly discouraged, and it would be 
exceedingly difficult to enlist new troops. He 



OF THE KEYOLUTION. 175 

decided that he could not risk a battle with any 
reasonable hope of success. But, on the other 
hand, if he should attempt to retreat, the enemy 
would detect the movement too soon. Or, if 
they did not, by crossing the Delaware, since 
neither ice nor ferry was now passable, lie would 
probably suffer great loss, if not the entire destruc- 
tion of his army. Something^ however, must be 
done, and done speedily. 

Washington, therefore, devised a bold strata- 
gem. Princeton, wdiich Avas ten miles from 
Trenton, was in possession of the British. Wash- 
ington rightly reasoned that as Cornwallis had 
left there with a larger part of his troops, Prince- 
ton could not be very strongly guarded, and 
therefore, if he could manage to get away with- 
out being discovered, he might reach the town, 
and perhaps capture the troops that held it. He 
resolved to make the attempt. As soon as it was 
sufficiently dark for the movement to be made 
without attracting the attention of the British, 
all the baggage was silently conveyed to Bur- 



176 SOLDIERS AND PATllIOTS 

lington. About one o'clock in the morning, the 
camp-fires of the Americans, wliich bad been 
kept burning all night, were renewed and the 
sentinels were ordered to marcli backwards and 
forwards between them and the British, so that 
the enemy might receive the impression tliat 
nothing unusual was going on in the American 
camp. After appointing guards at the bridge, 
and other passes of the narrow stream, Washing- 
ton secretl}^ drew off his army and marched 
toward Princeton. Cornwallis knew nothing of 
this movement, and was greatly surprised and 
chagrined in the morning, when he found that 
the Yankees were gone. He at once suspected 
Washington's object, and therefore immediately 
set out to prevent its accomplishment, if possi- 
ble. 

Two or three regiments at Princeton had been 
ordered by CornwalHs to come to him at Tren- 
ton. About sunrise Washington met these 
regiments. An engagement immediately com- 
menced. Tlie American miUtia, being ahead, 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 17T 

were the first to be engaged. Many of them 
were raw recruits, not accustomed to actual war- 
fare. Their conduct, and the result of this ac- 
tion, and of the attempt on Princeton, may be 
learned from the following conversation of our 
two soldiers, which took place at the next night's 
camjij-fire. 

" Wall, Zeb, this has been a glorious day for 
us." 

" That's true, but it's been an awful tough 
one for me, Zeke." 

" Guess you're right, Zeb." 

" I got it ruther stiff on the road, but j^ou've 
got a better right to complain than I." 

" Complain ! Who 's said anything about 
complainin' ? But look o' ihem feet ! " 

Zeke held up his extremities, with one old, 
worn-out shoe, that looked as though it had 
been through a thrashing-machine, and one rem- 
nant of a coon-skin moccasin, consisting chiefly 
of the raw strip that held it round the ankle. 
Both these wretched relics were stained with 



178 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS , 

blood, for poor Zeke's feet had been terribly cut 
by his severe march over a frozen road. Care- 
fully making a track on the snow, he left a crim- 
son spot, nearly the size of the sole. 

^' There, ain't f/ia^ tough?" added he ; "and 
the same to go through to-morrer, and the next 
day, and the next — and I don't know how 
long, less I can find some shoes here, or hook a 
pair off some dead Englishman." 

" Poor chance for that, Zeke," replied his 
tent-mate. " Ther's lots of our brave fellers in 
the same fix, and I guess every red-coat that fell 
had his shoes or boots tore off'n his feet 's soon's 
he was down, by them 't wanted 'em more'n 
he." 

''Wall, I don't care," continued the suffering 
soldier, " we've got another vict'ry, anyhow." 

" 'Twas a close rub, though, warn't it ? " 

" Yes." 

" Them raw militia didn't stan' up wuth a 
fo'pence. I'm ashamed on 'em. When they 
see the British comin', they run like sheep from 



OF THE EE VOLUTION. 179 

a strange dog. They like t' upset the rest on us 
when they rushed back amongst us there, pell- 
mell. And that ain't the wust on 't ; I b'leeve 
Gin'ral Mercer wouldn't a' got his mortal wound 
if they hadn't made such cowardly work. He 
exposed himself to everything, tryin' to rally 'em, 
and put a little courage into 'em — and it cost 
him his life." 

" And I thought Washington would git shot 
down, too, for he was dreadfully exposed," said 
Zeke. 

''I know it. But what else could he do? 
Them militia, who'd never smelt gunpowder 
afore, were runnin' right down on his division, 
and there was danger that they'd ketch the panic. 
So Washington rode right ahead, exposin' him- 
self to the fire of the inimj^, and then our reg'- 
lars were ashamed not to foller where he led." 

" Sakes ! an' how close we pushed ! Why, 
where I was, we got within pistol shot o' the 
red-coats, 'fore they stopped their firin'. Then 
we dashed at 'em, an' they begun to run." 



180 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

" Where d'ye s'pose tliem rigimints AA^ent to, 
when they got seperatecl so ? " 

" Why, one on 'em took the road to Trenton, 
ye know, to tell Cornwallis the news o" the 
mornin'. T'other helter-skeltered off cross-lots 
towards Brunswick, an' I guess there's where 
they've bro't up. They were completely routed, 
anyhow." 

" I expected there'd be some sharp fighting, 
when we got to Princeton," said Zeb. " There 
was a rigimint there to protect the town, an' I 
s'posed they'd try to do it." 

*' Yes, an' 'twas wuth laffin' at to see how the}^ 
did it. The idee o' them fine sojers leggin' it 
for college as soon 's they see us, an' shettin' 
themselves up in the big buildings ! " 

" That was well enough," said Zeb, "if they'd 
only fit arter they got there ; but you see, jist as 
we got some of our cannon fix'd for 'em, and let 
on some six pounders, the}^ took it int' their 
heads that 'twas best to give up, or go to Bruns- 
wick." 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 181 

*' All, yes," said Zeke, " and we surrounded 
the college too quick for 'em. Thar' wasn't 
many on 'em got away to Brunswick. They say 
we got three hundred pris'ners." 

" Have you lieern what the loss i.i ? " 

" They say we lost nigh a hundred killed, but 
it 's thought the inimy 've lost more. Howsum- 
ever, it's a victWij^ anyhow." 

Cornwallis never forgave himself for his blun- 
der in not attacking Washington as soon as he 
arrived at Trenton. As his army was in all re- 
spects in better condition than the American's, 
lie would probabl)^ have defeated them then. It 
is said that when the British reached Trenton, 
Sir William Erskine, one of the English officers, 
uroed Cornwallis to attack the Americans imme- 

o 

diately. Cornwallis thought there was no neces- 
sity for this. He said, '' The rebels are so hemmed 
in by the Delaware, filled with ice, on one side, 
and Cross wick's Creek in their rear, that it is 
impossible for them to retreat, and I can make 
sure work of them in the morning." 



182 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 

To this Erskine replied : 

" If Washington is the general I take him to 
be, his army will not be found on its present 
ground in the morning." 

Erskine, as we have seen, was correct. 

Cornwallis was disappointed and chagrined 
that the prey, which he thought was certainly 
his, had so completely escaped. But he was 
still more mortified when he learned of the vic- 
tories thev had achieved over the three regi- 
ments in his rear. Retracing his steps to Prince- 
ton, he entered one part of tlie town just as 
Washington left the opposite side, taking with 
him some three hundred prisoners. 

As the object of Cornwallis was to proceed to 
Brunswick, to protect a large quantity of stores, 
ammunition and gold, which he had left there, 
he did not follow the army of Washington, who 
had taken a different road, but pressed rapidly 
on to Brunswick. 




CHAPTER XVII. 

EECAPTUBE OF THE " GENEEAL MONK." 

On a summer day, early in this century of 
grace and liberty, two sociable old salts were 
sitting upon the fragment of a broken mast on 
one of the wharves at Baltimore. One of them 
w^as dressed in dark woolen trowsers, red shirt, 
a black neckerchief tied in a loose knot, and a 
low-crowned tarpaulin hat, garnished with a 
black ribbon an inch wide, with the two ends flap- 
ping over his ears like streamers. The other had 
on a pair of white duck pants, with short waist, 
large legs (one of which contained cloth enough 
to make a boy's whole suit), and a loose navy 

shirt, with a large white star in each corner of 

183 



184 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

the collar. His pants were kept in place in the 
■Qsnal sailor-fashion, Avithout suspenders, allowing 
tlie shirt to " bag " over the waistband; and on 
his bead was a kind of striped, four-pointed 
Spanish cap, whicb fell over on one side, impart- 
ing to him a rather rakisb look for so old a man. 
But the veteran marine had never been a pirate 
nor a slaver, only a privateers-man. He and 
his gra}^ companion were talking over old times, 
and especially the days of '76, and the war of 
Independence. 

" That affair of Barney's was rather a bold 
stroke," said he of the tarpaulin, turning over a 
new leaf of mental history. 

"Aye, aye," replied the marine of the striped 
cap. "That was about the prettiest piece o' 
sea-boxin' that I ever had a fist in." 

" "What, was you in that engagement ? " in- 
quired the tarpaulin. 

" I warn't nowhere else, an' I wouldn't ha' 
been if I could." 

" Then you know all about it. Jest light out, 



OF THE EE VOLUTION. 185 

an' giv' me the reckonin's ; for all I larnt o' the 
matter I picked up from the papers, an' blest it" 
I know whe'cr they told tlie truth or not." 

A request for a sailor's 3'arn was always most 
acceptable to the old marine, for, like many 
others of his class, he was never more at home 
than when relating his adventures at sea, so he 
at once began. 

" Lemme see — yes, 'twas on the eighth of 
April, 1782, that Ave commenced our cruise un- 
der Lieut. Joshua Barney. Our ship was the 
Hyder Ally, of sixteen guns. She was in fine 
order, for the State o' Pensylvany fitted her out 
'xpressly for that service." 

"What service was it? " asked the tarpaulin. 

" Why, you know the British privateers had 
been committin' great depredations along our 
coast, and it was high time to stop 'em. So we 
were sent for that purpose — to capture the Eng- 
lish privateers, and make reprisals on English 
merchantmen. 

"Wall, we sailed down the bay to the capes, 



186 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

an' there we tacked off an' on, with our eyes all 
round the compass, looldn' out for booiy. AYe'd 
begun to think we was on a Flyin' Dutchman 
chase, when, one day, the lookout in the tops 
sung out : 

" ' A sail ! a sail ! ' 

"'Where away?' yelled the officer of the 
deck. 

" ' East by north,' was the answer. 

" 'Another ! ' cried the top. 

" ' Yes, a third! ' says he, again. 

" Bless ye, ye oughter seen how 'xcited that 
made us. Up comes Lieutenant Barney on deck 
with his spy-glass, and, after a sharp look at the 
strangers, he pronounced 'em to be a brig and 
two ships, all belongin' to the enemy. Every 
man was ordered to his post, and the decks were 
cleared for action. We didn't have to wait long, 
for the British opened fire upon us as soon as 
they got in range. It's likely they 'xpected to 
see our flag come down in two minnits, bein' as 
they was three to our one ; but they didn't see 



OF THE EEYOLUTIOK. 187 

no such thing. Barney wasn't the man to strike 
his flag tilL he knew the reason vvhj. Tlie brig 
reached us first, but Barney allowed her to pass 
us Avithout givin' her a single ball. He didn't 
seem to think her worth noticing". Soon the two 
ships made up to us, till the one that led lay to 
within pistol-shot. 

" Barney's plan was formed in a minnit. He 
meant to fight by strategy. So he said to the 
quarter-master at the helm, " When I give the 
order to po7't the hehn^ you mind and ^;26^ tlie 
hehn hard a starboard.^ The object of that was 
to make the enemy think he was makin' a move 
that would surely expose him to their guns, that 
v/ould throw 'em off a few minnits, till he got 
the Hyder Ally Avhere he wanted her. 

"- So that was all settkd, and when the enemy's 
ship had got within easy hearin' of us, Barney 
jiive orders to fire; and I'm thinkin' the broad- 
side we sent into the Englishman at that order 
made ripping and splitting enough to let him 
know \Ahat sort o' stuff we was, the first time. 



188 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

We \Aeren't to be frightened by a few extra 
sheets o' canvas, and longer spars. The enemy 
now got ready to board us. Barney hekl his fire 
till they got alongside, and then sung out 
through his trumpet, so he could be heard above 
all the noise and confusion o' both vessels, ' Port 
tlie helm ! ' Now the Englishman knew that or- 
der would swing us beautifnll}^ around, so as to 
give him the advantage of us. He made no 
effort, 'cordingly, to interfere with it. But you 
may guess how he stared when he saw us swing 
right round the other way ! Before he could 
fairly make out what we was up to, Ave lay in 
fine position, and begun to give him a most ter- 
rible rakin'. 

" Then, I tell j-e, we had savage work. Broad- 
side to broadside, we pummeled and pounded 
one another, till there warn't hardly a whole 
spot in either of us. But we could fire faster'n 
the Englishman, and we almost cut liim to pieces. 
Splinters flew, spars fell, blood flowed, sails spilt 
to ribbons, and both vessels reeled and staggered 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 189 

as if a thunder-squall had crossed 'em. Durmg 
all this time Lieut. Barney was on the quarter- 
deck, in full view of the enemy's marines, and a 
mark for every shooter. Barney never was one 
o' yer men that gunpower can turn white. No 
fear in him, whatever. 

" Wall, sir, so quick was the Avork that in 
twenty-six minnits no less than tiventy h'oadsides 
had passed between us ; and by that time the 
enemy 'd had enough. His flag come down, and 
we took possession, with hurras that shook the 
sky and sea. The deck was slippery with blood, 
and covered with splinters, and the cockpit was 
filled with wounded marines." 

" What did she prove to be ? " asked old tar- 
paulin, who had listened with the greatest atten- 
tion. 

" She proved to be the Gin'ral ]\Ionk," replied 
the old privateers-man. " It was an American 
vessel, but had been captured from us by the 
British. They had re-fitted her, and christened 
her with a new name. She carried eighteen 



190 SOLDIEKS AND PATEIOTS 

nine-pounders, and one hundred and thirtj-six 
men, and was commanded by Capt. Rodgeis. 
Her name, when she belonged to us, was the 
Gin'ral Washington. I am glad her name Avas 
changed, for I should have been sorry to fight 
agin a craft that bore the name o' Washington. 

" The losses Averen't so great as might ha' been 
expected, considerin' the number o' shot Ave 
fired. The Gin'ral Monk had only twenty killed, 
and thirty-three Avounded, and that was jest five 
times as many killed, and three times as many 
wounded as Ave had." 

"What do ye mean by that?" inquired tar- 
paulin. 

" I jist mean what T say," replied the old pri- 
vateers-man, at the same time doing a sum in 
multiplication to prove the truth of his assertion. 
" We had four killed, and five times four makes 
twenty. Our A\'ounded numbered eleven, and 
three times eleven is thirty-three ; so you see the 
inimy lost five times as many killed, and three 
times as many Abounded as Ave." 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 



191 



The newspapers of the time, in their account 
of this ocean battle, described above by one of 
the heroes of the affiiir, said : *' Considering the 
great disparity of force, together with the fierce- 
ness of the action, and the briUiancy of manoeu- 
vring, it is justly considered one of the proudest 
achievments on our naval record." 




CHAPTER XYITT. 



THE WYOMING MASSACRE. 



Thboughout the whole period of the Revo- 
lution, the difference of opinion as to the right 
or wrong of the war which divided the people 
into " Whigs " and '^ Tories " continued to ex- 
ist, and develop every degree of hatred, treachery 
and active hostilit}^ The great majority of the 
nation were united in the sentiment that resist- 
ance to British tyranny was right, and that the 
proper course to be purused under the circum- 
stances was, tp declare independence of England, 
and then fight it out. But, at the same time, 
many w^ere totally opposed to all this. These 
took sides with the mother country, and gloried 

in the name of Torj*. Not seldom this difference 
(192) 



soldie:;s and patriots 193 

of feeling and thinking divided the same family. 
Brotliers were arrayed against brothers, and 
children stood in the relation of deadly enemies. 

In the settlement of Wyoming, which was 
located in one of the loveliest valleys of Penn- 
sylvania, and where, hitherto, a thousand fami- 
lies had lived in peace, this division on the 
exciting topics of the day was productive of ter- 
ribly disastrous results. 

The British, knowing that a considerable por- 
tion of these colonists were in sympathy with 
England, seized every opportunity to provoke 
their active partisanship, and kindle the Tory 
sentiment to open mischief against the patriot 
cause. They strove hard to set neighbor against 
neighbor, friend against friend, and relative 
against relative. These efforts were fearfully 
successful. Many of the Tories were induced 
to unite in arms w^ith the wild savages of the 
country, who were in the employ of the English, 
and engage in one of the most sanguinary and 
terrific massacres, of their own friends and rela- 



194 SOLDIEES AKD PATRIOTS 

tives, of wliicli Iiistory gives any account. The 
follomng letter, from a lady who v. as a specta- 
toi' of the horrible tragedy, and one of tlie few 
who escaped the slaughter, gives a condensed, 
but vivid description of its bloody scenes. 

"- Beak Ceeek, July 7t7i^ 1778.. 
" jNIy dear, dear Sister : — 

" I seem to have had a terrible elream — an 
awful nightmare. Oh ! can it be true ? Our 
beautiful settlement is no more ! Wyoming: is de- 
stroyed! But even tlmt could be borne, were 
it not that the mutilated forms and the charred 
bones of our friends lie with the ashes of the 
dwellings. 

" It will sicken your heart to hear it, as it 
does mine to tell it. [Here follows a list of 
many mutual acquaintances and kindred, mur- 
dered.] . ' • . The good, the beautiful, and 
the brave, trembling age and helpless infancy^ 
were slaughtered promiscuously together. I am 
hardly composed enough to give you a con- 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 195 

nected account of the events, but, as far as the 
particulars have been tokl me, and my own ter- 
ribl}' fresh recollection can testify, they are as 
follows. 

" You know that a large number of our neigh- 
bors were Tories. These turned their backs on 
the settlement, and went out in hatred, to ally 
themselves witli the British and Indians. On 
the 3rd of July (four days ago), they returned 
with a large number of others, EngUshmen, half- 
breeds and savages, in all more than fifteen hun- 
dred. Whom do you suppose they chose for 
their leader ? It was no other than that cold- 
blooded, cruel, Tory refugee. Colonel John But- 
ler. They were prowling round the settlements 
for some days, but pretended that they designed 
no injury. We did not believe them, and our 
patriots took every possible precaution to protect 
us. A battle was fought, but the enemies were 
too numerous, and the men fled for shelter into 
our little fort. Butler surrounded the fort, and 
ordered them to surrender. As the defences 



196 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

were very weak, and the garrison and supplies 
insufficient, it was mere madness to attempt any 
resistance. The surrender was made, and the 
deceived patriots yielded themselves, only to be 
doomed to death. Many of our men, however, 
had gone to Fort}^ Fort, near Kingston, where 
myself, and many other women, as well as chil- 
dren, had fled. The enemy now presented 
themselves before this fort, and Butler demanded 
its surrender. His own cousin, Zeb Butler, had 
command of the fort. But that made no differ- 
ence. He was just as willing to kill him as any 
one else. 

When the summons came to surrender, Zeb at 
first refused. He proposed that they should hold 
a conference at the bridge, outside of the Forty. 
To this the treacherous old John consented ; so, 
as soon as he was ready, Zeb marched out of the 
fort, with four hundred men, to hold a parley 
with the enemy. 

'' To his astonishment there was no enemy 
to be seen. Zeb, supposing that they had re- 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 197 

linquislied their design of attacking the fort, 
and fled before some unknown alarm, commenced 
a pursuit. This was a fatal mistake. After 
proceeding two or three miles, they "'overtook 
some straggling Indians. On these tliey fired, 
when, to their horror, they found themselves 
caught in an ambuscade. With demoniac shouts 
and yells, more than a thousand tories and sav- 
ages sprang up and attacked them on every side. 
So amazed were our friends at this terrible sur- 
prise, that at first they could not fight. But the 
officers speedily rushed forward, encouraged the 
men, and restored order. They now began to 
return the enemy's fire. But as the Indians and 
Tories were concealed behind rocks and trees, 
it was almost impossible to hurt them. Yet 
from behind their protections these cowardly 
scoundrels poured an incessant fire, shooting- 
down their victims by scores. The patriots 
fought bravely, and strove long to stem the tide 
of death. But it was no battle — it was only 
murder — and the slayers were all on one side. 



198 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

At length, when tlie little band saw tlieir ene- 
mies in their rear, cutting off all hope of retreat 
to the fort, they offered to surrender. Tlie offer 
was rejected with shouts of derision. They then 
called for quarter. The prayer was ansAA^ered 
with YoUej^s of musketr}-, which silenced the 
voice of the petitioners forever. Some threw 
away their guns ; others prostrated themselves 
amonof the slain, and feigned death : others 
rushed wildly from point to point, everywhere 
met by the frightful yells of the savages, and by 
the death-dealing tomahaAvk and musket. No 
quarter Avas given. The fiendish enemy Avould 
be satisfied AA-ith nothing less than the entire 
annihilation of their entrapped victims. Of the 
four hundred and seventeen who left the fort, 
only fifty-seven managed to escape, leaving 
three hundred and sixty Aveltering in theii- blood 
upon the field. Although this was dreadful, it 
Vv^as only the beginning of our miseries. 

" After this slaughter, the murderers returned 
to the fort, and again demanded its surrender ; 



OF THE KEVOLUTION. 199 

and, as an argument to enforce their demand, 
tliej sent into the fort a hundred and ninety-six 
scalps^ taken from the heads of our friends who 
had just been slain. O Rachel ! can you fancy 
anything so horrible ? Even now I almost sluiek 
as 1 think of the agony and cries of the ^^•omen 
and children at that fearful sight. Those bleed- 
ing relics huited too plainly \Ahat their own fate 
might be. Besides, they had everj^ reason to 
believe that their husbands', and brothers", 
and fathers' scalps were among the number so 
brutally exposed, and that the dead bodies of 
these loved ones were lying unburied where they 
fell. 

*' Colonel Dennison, who now had command 
of the fort, refused to capitulate. The enemy 
then surrounded the fort, and poured into it a 
terrific canonade. When nearly all the men in 
the fort were either slain or wounded, Colonel 
Dennison went out with a flag of truce to in- 
quire what terms w^ould be granted the garrison 
if they surrendered. The answer of Butler was 



200 SOXDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

true to his savage nature, and contained only 
two words, ' The hatchet.' Although Butler 
thus threatened to slaughter the garrison when 
they surrendered, Dennison hoped that he might 
not be unnecessarily cruel. At any rate, as he 
could hold out no longer with any hope of suc- 
cess, he was obliged to yield. After Butler got 
possession of the fort, he selected a few prisoners 
to keep for some special purpose, and then drove 
the remainder, with the women and children, 
into the houses and barracks, and fastened them 
in. He then set fire to them, and burnt them 
all together ! Will the dying screams of those 
helpless victims ever haunt the heart of that 
arch-murderer ? Alas ! I forget. Col. John But- 
ler has no heart. 

Fortunately for me, I had left the fort just 
after the detachment went out with Zeb Butler. 
I knew the house of Uncle Barlow would not be 
molested, strong Tory as he is, and though one 
could scarcely trust the nearest Tory friend in 
those terrible hours, I felt sure of Cousin Jane's 



OF THE REVOLUTIOK. 201 

affection. Uncle being away in the ami}'', I 
might at least count upon Jane to protect or con- 
ceal me for a little while. I ran to the house, 
and threw myself upon her kindness. She re- 
ceived me tenderly and gladly, and told me to 
fear nothing. She gave me a little attic room, 
with one small window which looked toward the 
fort, and there she and I spent a great part of 
tbat dreadful day. But for that timely shelter, 
when Col. Butler returned I must have mingled 
my dying cries with those of the many whom the 
monster forced to so cruel an end. 

" After this, the British and Indians had every- 
thing their own way. Tragedies that cry to 
heaven, and make humanity ashamed, were en- 
acted on every side. Men, women and children 
were butchered and burned, as if such work 
were holiday play. The frenzied enemy, with 
the torch in one hand, and the sword in the other, 
ran like demons through the settlements, carrying 
conflagration and carnage wherever they went. 

*' Our neighbor, Capt. Badlock, was seized by 



202 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

the monsters, and, instead of killing liim out- 
right, they subjected him to inconceivable tor- 
tures, because he was a patriot officer. They 
stuck lighted pitch-pine splinters into his flesh, 
all over his body, and then placed him in the 
midst of a fire of dry wood, and in that awful 
manner consumed him. T\^o other officers, Rau- 
son andDurkee, were thrown into the same rag- 
ing flames, and, to prevent them froin rising, they 
were held down upon the burning brands with 
pitchforks ! Even this was not the worst. 
But hoAV can my hand write more ? 

'^ I must tell 3'ou of Partial Terry — what a 
brutal wTetch he has come to be — Partial Terry, 
3^our former schoolmate. His father took sides 
with the colonies, but he went over to the 
British. Fired with unnatural hatred, he sent 
word to his father that he hoped to wash his 
hands in Lis heart's blood ! On the day of the 
massacre, he went to his old home, and tliere 
p-ralified his infernal with I He murdered his 

o 

father, mother, brothers and sisters, stripped off 



OF THE BEYOLUTION. 208 

tlieir scalps; and tlieu cut off bis father's head ! I 
Another monster slew his own mother, his father- 
iii-law, his sisters, and their infant children, and 
thus exterminated his whole family ! 

^' These are only a few out of many instances 
of terrible barbarity wdiich were perpetrated on 
that fatal day. Even the beasts of the field did 
not escape. Some were shot down, whilst others 
bad their tongues cut out, and were left to Un- 
ger in this mutilated condition. 

'<- Uncle's bouse was protected by the British 
flag; and, through the love .and kindness of 
Cousin Jane, I was preserved. She told me, 
however, that 1 had better leave tbe house, and 
escape out of the valley ; for when the Tories 
returned, if they found that I was in the house, 
they might be so heated with the fary of the 
time, as to injure me. So, after dark, I secretly 
left the house, and, faUing in witli some other 
w^omen, who had managed to escapj, we started 
for this place, where, after a tedious and painfid 
journey, we finally arrived in safety. Such is 



204 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS. 

war! Though, personally, I feel that I have 
great reason for gratitude to my Heavenly Fa- 
ther, for carrying me through such awful peril 
unhurt, my heart is heavy with grief for the 
many, many victims — and for my own and 
many ruined homes. 

" Sadly, but always lovingly, 

"Your Sister." 





CHAPTER XIX. 



YOBKTOWN DAY. 

<' Well, Mr. Comparison, how is your wound 
this morning?" inquired an old New Jersey 
farmer, of one of the American soldiers honor- 
ably sent home with a bad hurt from the last 
patriot victory. 

The person addressed had received the cogno- 
men of ''Mv. Comparison" from his habit of 
contantly using comparisons in his talk, piecing 
out almost every idea with another one that be- 
gun with the word -like." His comparisons 
were by no means always graceful or truthful, 



206 SOLDIERS AND PATKIOTS 

and sometimes tliey amounted to sheer contrast 
and turned his descrij^tions into absurdities. He 
was an amusing genius, and on account of his 
mirth fulness he was quite a favorite in camp. 

" Wall, sir," quoth Mr. Comparison, " my 
wound is like a hungry fish, it carries an open 
mouth." 

" It don't heal, eh?" 

" Wall, if it does, it heals like our troubles 
with Great Britain, very slowly." 

" How did 3^ou get it ? " 

"Git it? v.- here I ought to, sir : at my post, sir, 
doin' my duty, sir." 

" At Yorkto\Yn, I suppose ? " said the farmer. 

" Nowhere else, sir." 

" It's a great honor to be wounded in that 
battle." 

" That's true, sir, for if I'm not mistaken that 
victory has left the King's cause in this country 
like a snake Avith its back broken. I reckon the 
war will be healed up before my wound is." 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 207 

" As you were there, give me a little sketch 
of the affair; I should be pleased to hear it.'' 

"• Wall, sir, arter the French jined us, and 
Gin'ral Washington had drawn his troops to- 
gether, we commenced digging our first parallel 
on the seventh of October (1781). We com- 
menced in the night, and worked as still as 
thunder, and by morning we had a trench dug 
nearly two miles long, besides erecting some re- 
doubts. When the sun rose, the inimy found 
out we hadn't been dreaming through the night. 
Our lonsx line of dirt showed what we'd been 
about, so they complimented us with a salute o' 
balls. They didn't do us any injury, though. 
Tlieir cannon were only like great iron dogs that 
could bark loud enough but couldn't bite. The 
next night we erected some batteries in front of 
our parallel, and planted some cannon there with 
Avliich to hold a conversation with the cannon 
of the inimy the next day. When these war 
ready, Gin'ral Washington came along and the 
cannon being loaded he touched off the first one 



208 SOLDIEES AND PATBIOTS 

himself. That was the signal for a tremenjus 
discharge — cannon and mortars roar'd all to- 
gether, in a few niglits more we had our second 
parallel-trench dug, and batteries planted much 
nearer to the English than afore. We kep' 
nearing 'em and nearing 'em jist like tide water 
on the flood." 

"Didn't they fire on you?" inquired the 
farmer. 

" Fire on us ! why, sartin. Their balls and 
shell kep' comin' in all the time like hot pun- 
kins. There was two redoubts, or small forts, 
some three hundred yards in front o' their prin- 
cipal defences. These gin us consid'able trouble. 
So it was determined to take them at night with 
the baggernet. A brigade under La Fayette was 
assigned to the one on our right, and Col. Ham- 
ilton with another brigade was app'inted to take 
the one on our left. About eight o'clock at 
nisht the attack commenced. Our soldiers 
stepped up with their baggernets in rest, like 
schoolbo^^s marchin' in to dinner — and, sir, they 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 209 

carried both o' them forts without firing a single 
shot. There was a bit of a tussel when the boys 
got in, and some was killed on both sides — but 
the job was done quick, sir, and done clean. 
Whilst this affair was going on, Gin'ral Wash- 
ington with his staff was standing in a position 
open to the enemy's fire. Kurnel Cobb, one of 
his aids, said to him, ' Sir, you are to much ex- 
posed here ; hadn't you better step back a lit- 
tle?'" 

''Did he do it?" asked the farmer with no 
little curiosity. 

'' Do it? " echoed the wounded soldier. ''No, 
but he jist answered by saying, ' Kurnel Cobb, 
if you are afraid, you have liberty to step back.' 
Cobb didn't advise the old Gin'ral any more, 
but they said he looked as aAvk'rd as a wheel- 
barrer, for a minute an' a haff. 

" Wall, arter a few days all our parallels and 
batteries was done, and then we begun to slute 
the inimy, and send in our kairds. Pretty soon 
the bombs made 'em a visit, right where they 



210 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

lived, and tore away their defences, shattered 
their guns, blew up their houses, and finally old 
Conwallis had so many hot loaves in his oven 
that he was 'bleeged to ery enough,' and send 
over a flag of truce. That w^as on the eight- 
eenth. On the nineteenth the old fellow sur- 
rended, and all his army. I ain't a goin' to brag, 
neighbor^ but between you'n' I an' the liberty 
pole, that was a glorious day. My wound was 
swelled, and smarted like a rat-bite, and I had 
to keep in. But I hollered hurra in the hosp'tal. 
There was one thing wantin', though, to the 
ceremony o' that s'rrender. When the inimy 
marched out o' their tents to give up their flags 
and themselves to the 'Mericans, Cornwallis 
warn't thar. He said he was sick, an' I guess 
he was. Sick or bashful — it don't make mncli 
odds which — Leastways he staj^ed in quartei^ 
like a turkle in his shell, and his officers had to 
bear the honors o' the day Avithout him." 

" I don't blame the man for not wantin' to 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 211 

show himself, consideriu' how little there was 
left of him." 

" No, as the nigger said, ' Mass'r Washington 
had shelled all de corn off'n him.' Co6\\allis 
wouldn't a' looked well on parade anyhow." 

" Ha, ha, and I reckon the old man knew 
it. Wall, I was down to camp that day, an' I 
got thar jist in time to see the ceremony." 

" Good luck, 3-0U did ! Now tell us how it 
struck ye. A good story's never spile't by being 
told twice, as the chaplain said about his old 
sermon.' 

" Wall, I come to town early in the mornin' 
with a load o' hay, and arter gittin' red 0' that, 
I hung round till twelve o'clock. Then I lieerd 
the drums beat, and in a few minutes the Amer- 
icans and French troops come marchin' out o' 
camp. They took position along the road and 
their line reached more'n a mile. 

" The Americaus were on the right side of the 
road, and the French were on the left. Gin'ral 
Washington was at the head of the American 



212 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

line, and Count Rochambeau on the opposite 
side o' the road was at the head o' the French. 
I was astonished at the great number o' specta- 
tors. The news must ha' spread like wild-fire 
to bring sich a multitude o' folks together. 
Every eye was bright and every face looked 
pleased. All the roads, except the one occupied 
by the soldiers, were filled with horses, chaises 
and carriages of all descriptions, loaded with 
spectators. About two o'clock the British army 
begun to file out with their music playin'. I 
tell ye, friends, they looked handsome, for Corn- 
Avallis had gin 'em a bran new suit o' uniform, 
and this was the first time they'd had it on." 

"Didn't see their colors^ did ye? "asked the 
wounded soldier. 

''No,'' replied the farmer, "their flags were 
rolled up and tied, or cased, so that we didn't 
get a gimpse of the red cross nor the lion and 
the unicorn." 

" Them beasts was caged that day," said the 
soldier. 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 213 

*'Yes," said tlie farmer, ''it wasn't tlie lion 
chasin' the unicorn, but the Yankees leadin' the 
lion and the unicorn both all round the town." 

" Ye minded how they carried tlieir arms, 
didn't ye ! " inquired the soldier. 

" The officers had their side arms, and the 
men carried their muskets kinder lopped down, 
all jist alike. So they passed along the road 
between the French and American lines, lookin' 
sullen and mortified in the face. They was 
dressed a great deal better'n our army, but they 
didn't step smart, nor hardly reg'lar. Fact, 
some on 'em didn't hardly keep their ranks." 

" Ye see they didn't care then whether school 
kep' or not," remarked Mr. Comparison. One 
thing, neighbor, they say everybody was quiet 
an' still — didn't shout nor hurra there. Was 
that so ? " 

" That was so. Everybody seemed to kinder 
pity that whipped army, as if they was sorry 
enough a' ready, and 'twas too bad to crow over 
'em. But you ought'n seen how the heads 



214 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

stretched up, and all eyes strained, to ketcli a 
glimpse o' Cornwallis. One said, 'Where is 
he ? ' another said, ' That's him ! ' ' I see him, T 
see him ! ' said somebody else. ' La,' said an old 
Avoman near me, 'he's nothin' sich a lookin' 
cretur as I took him to be.' When the truth 
was known there was a great deal o' disap'int- 
ment all round. It's jist possible if Cornwallis 
had a show*ed himself, there might ha' been some 
shoutin' an' crowin'. The man that had druv 
our army 'afore him out and in 'twould a' been 
a treat to see on exhibition. Gin'ral O'Harra, 
who was appinted by Cornwallis to give up the 
sword, was s'posed by a good many to be Corn- 
wallis himself, but they pretty soon found out 
this mistake. When O'Harra, with the con- 
quered troops marchin' slowly behind him, 
reached the head o' the American line, he come 
up to where Gin'ral Washington and the other 
gin'rals was, and takin' off his cap he made an 
apology for the absence of his chief commander. 



or TTIE PEYOTJ'TIOX- 21-1 

"Washington, in a very polite manner, pointed 
him to Gin'ral Lincohi from whom he received 
instructions what conrse to pursue. Gin'ral Lin- 
oohi then conducted tlie army of prisoners into 
a large field where T reckon the most 23ainfu]. 
duty of all was performed."" 

*' Yon mean — " said the soldier. 

'' To give np their arms — "" said the farmer. 

^' Gix)und arms," corrected the soldier. 

*' Yes, that's it. It wasn't done with a veiy 
good grace though. The officers gave the com- 
mand to 'r/roiirtd arms^ as though they were 
mad, and then manj' of the soldiers, instead of 
laying their muskets gently on the ground, 
dashed them on the pile violently as if they 
tried to break them. Some confusion was cre- 
ated, but Gin'ral Lincoln rode up to them and 
soon checked it," 

^' Ah, neighbor, it was a glorious day, and T 
don't wonder that when the messenger carried 
fMe news to Congress that Cornwallis was con- 



216 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 

quered, the door-keeper was so overjoyed that 
he fell dead. It isn't often that news is so good 
as to hill a body. It's like honey drowning a 
fly. Halloo, there's the surgeon. I must go 
now and have my wound dressed." 





CHAPTER XX. 



A GLIMPSE OF OLD '77. 



Having occasion some montlis since to visit 
Albany, I was introduced to the B — family by 
whom I Avas treated witli tlie greatest hospital- 
ity. Their ancestors Avere deeply interested in 
the American Revolntion. Several of them 
were soldiers in the American arm}^ and a 
grandfather was wounded at the battle of Sara- 
toga. As might be expected, our conversation 
embraced repeated allusions to the events of tlie 
war, as Mrs. B — abounded in traditionaiy an- 
ecdotes which liad been handed down in the 

(217) 



218 SOLDIEKS AND PATEIOTS 

family from those who had been actors in the 
scenes. 

In one of our interviews, Mrs. B — incident- 
alh^ remarked that there was an old revolution- 
ary manuscript up in her garret which might be 
interesting to those who could read it, but for 
her own part, she found so much difficulty in 
deciphering it that it destroyed all her pleasure. 
She never made the attempt but once, and then 
gave up in despair. Professing to be something 
of an antiquarian, T asked permission to see the 
papers. She said they were in a barrel filled 
with old books, yellow newspapers and other 
cast-off materials, but she would ransack for 
them and upon my next visit I should see them. 

Accordingly, when T called again, they were 
j)ut in my possession. They were large sheets 
of foolscap paper, smoke-colored and stained 
with dirty water. They were written in a small 
hand, very angidar, the letters not connected, 
and having somewhat the appearance of irregu- 
lar italics. At first I found it exceedingly diffi- 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 219 

cult to read a sentence, but after becoming ac- 
customed to the letters, the writing became 
comparatively plain, and I could proceed with 
ease. The papers proved to be a journal of the 
war, kept by some patriot non-combatant, possi- 
bly a disabled officer of tlie American army. I 
take from it the following entries : 

Septemhei' l'2t7i. ITTT. I am now at Stillwater, 
in the state of New York. Tlie American and 
British armies are approaching each other with a 
view, ultimately, to an engagement. 

loth. I have just heard of the massacre of 
Miss Jenny McCrea, by some Indians in the em- 
ploy of the British. She was engaged to bo 
married to a refugee officer by the name of 
Jones. When the Americans left Fort Edward, 
she stayed behind, expecting to meet her lover, 
and by him to be led to tlie altar of Hymen. 
Instead of that, she vras seized by two savages, 
who soon got quarrelling as to which of them 
should have the charge of her, when one of 
them became enraged, and to defeat the other, 



220 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

he suddenly struck her with his tomahawk and 
then scalped her. This piece of Indian tragedy 
has produced a profound sensation among the 
Americans. 

14^A. Burgoyne, the commander of tlie Brit- 
ish, has employed the American savages to fight 
against us, and allow^s them to take scalps. 
This he has done, although he know^s what terri- 
ble barbarities they practice in war, and upon 
their prisoners. 

15t7i, Intelligence has reached us that I>ur- 
gojme has crossed the Hudson Biver and made 
a stand at Saratoga, a place w^liere tliere are 
some remarkable mineral springs. General Gates 
is determined to face him, and if possible drive 
him into Canada. 

IQtJi. Gates has issued a proclamation to his 
troops to fire them with courage and revenge. 
Among other things he says: '' If the murder 
of aged parents, \a ith their innocent children ; 
if mangling the blooming virgin and inoffensive 
youth are inducements to revenge — if the 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 221 

righteous cause of freedom, and the happiness 
of posterity, are motives to stimuhite to con- 
quer their mercenary and merciless foes, the 
time is now come, when they are called on by 
their country, by their general, and by every 
thing divine and human, to vanquish the foe." 

lltJi. I am informed that our army is pro- 
gressing towards the British in three columns, 
commanded by Generals Gates, Lincoln and Ar- 
nold. The officers and troops are in good spirits, 
and j)anting to meet the foe. 

Idth. We heard to-day loud firing in the di- 
rection of Bemis' Heights. A severe action 
must have occurred ; we are all very anxious to 
learn the result. 

20th. We have learned the particulars of the 
affair of yesterday. Gates and Burgoyne, with 
their respective armies, met and soon became en- 
gaged in a bloody contest. ' The Americans 
numbered twenty-five hundred. The whole 
army of Burgoyne was more than twice that 
number, though I have not learned how many 



222 SOLDIERS AKD PATRIOTS 

of them were engaged. For three hours the fir- 
ing on both sides was tremendous. Sometimes 
one regiment would be repulsed, but being rein- 
' forced would rally again, and drive their pursu- 
ers back. This was the case with both armies. 
so that their dead and wounded were mingled 
together. Some of our soldiers ascended high 
trees in the rear, and on the flanks of the enemy, 
and from their lofty points of observation they 
singled out the British officers and shot them. 
At one time Burgoyne, it was supposed, was 
aimed at and wounded, but it afterwards proved 
to be one of his aids who was delivering to liim 
a message. The reason of the mistake arose 
from the fact that the saddle of the aid was or- 
namented with rich lace, from which it was in- 
ferred that he must be the commander. 

After fighting with great fury until evening, 
the battle was suddenly terminated. In one 
part of the field the British retreated, and in 
another part the Americans gave way. Both 
parties claimed the victory, but the advantages 



or THE KEVOLUTIOlN. 22o 

were greatly in oar fiivor. It is said that tlio 
enemy lost more than five hundred in killed, 
wounded and prisoners. On our side sixty-four 
were killed, two hundred and seventeen wounded 
and thirty-eight missing. After the firing had 
ceased, our army retired to their camp without 
being pursued, whilst the enemy lay all ni-ht 
upon their arms at a considerable distance from 
the field of action. 

Oct. 2nd. Burgoyne is now in very trying cir- 
cumstances. His retreat towards Canada will 
be very difHcult and dangerous, and his advance 
to Albany on the Hudson is impossible. He has 
been expecting assistance from the troops at 
iSTew York under Sir Hemy- Clinton, but is dis- 
appointed, as nothing is heard from Sir Henry. 
If this help arrives in time, it may be disastrous 
to the Americans. 

Burgoyne's condition is constantl}- becoming 
worse on account of the numbers of Canadians 
and savages w ho are deserting him. 



224 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

bth. I have been informed that the British 
commander has thrown up a long line of en- 
trencliments in front of his camp, and is taking 
all other measures in his power to strengthen 
his position. lie evidently expects another 
severe engagement in a short time. I intend, to- 
morrow, to go to the American camp, and, if 
possible, get an opportunity to witness an en- 
gagement. 

Sri. Arrived in camp this afternoon and 
found our troops in good spirits and anxious to 
have another battle with the enemy. 

8^/z. Yesterda}^ the two armies met at Bemis* 
Heights, when a very bloody contest between 
them ensued. Colonel IMorgan with his sharp- 
shooting rifle-men, sustained by Major Dearborn 
with a detachment of infantry, commenced the 
conflict with a furious attack upon the British 
grenadiers under the command of Major Ack- 
land. In a short time the roar of battle was 
beard along the whole line of the two armies. 
Both parties fought with the greatest courage. 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 225 

Death seemed robbed of his terrors. As fast as 
breaches were made in the ranks, the phices of 
those who had fallen were supplied by others 
ready to expose themselves to a similar fate. 
The hated Hessians were on the ric^ht of the Eno- 
lish. They fought at first with great valor, but 
were out-flanked by a detachment of our troops. 
Finally, after a severe conflict in which prodigies 
of valor were displayed in both sides, the whole 
British line, under the immediate command of 
Burgoyne himself, was broken and compelled to 
retreat in disorder. Then the Hessians, who 
until this time had remained firm, were assaulted 
Avith such intrepidity by Gov. Learned and Col. 
Brooks (hat the works, which had been erected 
for their protection, were gallantly taken ; they 
were driven to their tents, and the whole of 
them, with all their equipage and stores, cap- 
tured. Our troops gained a complete victory, 
and as might be expected, were intoxicated with 
jo}*. Colonel Cilley, who had acted nobly duriiig 
the engagement, got astride of a brass cannon as 
though it were a war-horse, and there shouted 



226^ SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS. 

and waved his cap with the greatest exultation, 
A number of valuable officers on both sides 
were either slain or wounded. General Frazer, 
a highly esteemed British officer, fell under the 
following circumstances. He was about chang- 
ing the disposition of some of his troops, in order 
to go to the relief of others who were in danger 
of being overcome by the Americans. Col. 
Morgan saw him, and pointing him out to two 
or tliree of his best marksmen he said, " Do you 
see that galkint officer ? that is General Frazer 
— I respect and honor him, but it is necessary 
he should die.'' That was enough. The rifle- 
men immediately aimed ; their weapons spoke, 
and Frazer instantly fell wiih a mortal wound 
and was carried to the rear. He was taken to 
the house of Baron Reidesel, where he was 
kindly nursed by the Baron's wife till he died. 
Night put an end to the engagement, or we 
might have taken the whole British arm}^. We 
had between three hundred and four hundred 
killed and wounded, whilst tlie loss of the enemy 
approached six hundred. 




CHAPTER XXL 

THE CAPTURE OF GENERAL BURGOYNE. 

The following narnitive is a continuation of 

the old journal found in the B family at 

Albany. 

Oct. 9tJi, 1777. Those Avho have examined the 
field of battle say that they saw a hundred of 
the enemy lying dead and unburied upon the 
ground. We have learned that at tlie engage- 
ment on the 7th, Burgoyne came near losing his 
life. One bullet tore his waistcoat, and another 
passed through his hat. it was a narrow escape. 
These, however, are common in battle. 

10th. Last night Burgoyne silently retreated. 



228 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

He built numerous camp-fires, left a few tents 
standing so as to deceive us, and then, in the 
darkness, marched towards Saratoga, leaving 
three hundred sick and wounded, and two hun- 
dred barrels of flour, behind him. General Gates 
intends to cut off his further retreat. 1 hope he 
will be successful. 

l^th. Burgoyne, in his retreat, has been 
guilty of destroying all the property in his power. 
He has burnt every house that he could reach. 
The splendid mansion of General Schuyler he 
has levelled to the ground. He is evidently 
greatly chafed in consequence of his embarrassed 
circumstances. These are becoming Avorse, 
dail}^ General Gates lias disposed of liis troops 
in such a manner that they nearly surround the 
British army. If another battle occurs, the 
English are in a condition to be entirely cut to 
pieces. We have been fearful that Sir Henry 
Clinton may send some encouraging message to 
Burgoyne, or perhaps offers of assistance. But 
these fears were dispersed by the following 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 220 

singular incident. After tlie capture of Fort 
Montgomery, Sir Hemy Clinton dispatched a 
messenger with the news to Burgoyne. This 
man was Daniel Taylor. On his way to Bur- 
goyne's camp he was seized by our soldiers as a 
spy. He was seen to' put something in his 
mouth and swallow it. This fact was communi- 
cated to the American general, George Clinton, 
who immediately prescril)ed for liim a strong 
emetic. This produced the desired result. It 
made him throw up from his stomach a small 
silver bullet. Tliis bullet was hollow, and made 
in two pieces, which were fastened together by 
a screw, on the rim, or edge. Being unscrewed, 
it was found to contain a letter from Sir Henry 
to Burgoyne, giving a brief statement of his 
success, but at tlie same time adding, '' I cannot 
presume to order, or even advise, for obvious 
reasons." This showed that Sir Henry had no 
intention of "ordering" any portion of his 
troops to the relief of Burgoyne. This was 
great relief to us. This bullet was evidence that 



230 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

the prisoner who had swallowed it was a spy. 
He was tried, found guilty, and hung. 

litJi. To our unspeakable joy, General Bur- 
goyne has to-day sent a flag of truce to our 
camp, with proposals to surrender. He asks a 
cessation of hostilities until the terms of capitu- 
lation can be agreed upon by the two parties. 
General Gates has complied with his request. 

lltJi. It has been agreed between the two 
generals that the Britisli army shall march out of 
their camp with the honors of war and their 
field artillery, to the place designated for that 
purpose, where their arms shall be piled at the 
command of their own officers. The troops are 
to be allowed to return to England, with the 
understanding that they are not to serve against 
us acTain during^ the war. The officers are to be 
treated according to their rank, and allowed to 
wear their side-arms. The Canadians are to be 
allowed to return home, on condition of their not 
fighting again against the United States. 

This morning the American troops marched 



OF THE REVOLUTION, 2ol 

into tlie British lines of defence to the soal-in- 
sj)iring tune of Yankee Doodle. The royal army 
tlien marehed out, and dcpo^ite-d tlieir arms in 
the place appointed. 

By this arrangement, General Gates spared 
iiis enemy the mortification of disarming them- 
selves in the presence of their conquerors. This 
is regarded as characteristie* of the amiable and 
benevolent disposition of Gates, 

During the discussion of the terms of capit- 
ulation, t\yo or three incidents occurred which 
came near -defeating tlie surrender and opening 
the fio'litino: anew.. 

In the first place, before the articles of agree- 
ment were signed, several hundred of the New 
York militia, whose term of enlistment had ex- 
pired, marched away from camp without the 
permission of General Gates, About the same 
time, Burgoyne received information through a 
spy, that Sir Henry Clinton had taken Fort 
Montgomery, and would endeavor to force his 
way to Albany. When Burgoyne heard of both 



232 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

these events, he desired to recede from his pro- 
posal to ciipitidate. Though the articles of 
agreement were all arranged, adopted and signed 
by the officers who had been appointed for that 
purpose, and were merely wanting the signature 
of Burgoyne himself ; yet, instead of signing 
them, he sent a note to General Gates, statins^ 
that he should recede from the treaty, because a 
part of the American troops had been detached 
from the army during the negotiation, and, with 
cool effrontery, if not with impudence, he re- 
quired permission to send two officers to our 
camp to ascertain the fact. To this, of course. 
Gates would not consent. Being indignant at 
such conduct, he sent Lieutenant-Colonel Wil- 
kinson to see Burgoyne personal]}^ and say to 
him that if the treaty was not immediately rati- 
fied, hostilities would recommence. After a good 
deal of hesitation on the part of Burgoyne and 
his officers, he finally signed the document. 

By this victory we have obtained possession 
of five thousand and eight hundred officers and 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 233 

soldiers, among whom are six members of the 
British parhament, forty-two brass cannon, seven 
thousand muskets, seventy-two thousand cart- 
ridges, and a great quantity of shot, shells and 
other munitions of war ; with tents and clothing 
for seven thousand men. 

Among the prisoners were two thousand and 
four hundred Hessians, whom the British had 
hii;^d to hglit against us. 

The most important ceremony of the surren- 
der was performed by the two commanders, — 
that was the delivering of the sword of the con- 
quered into the hand of the victor in token of 
his submission. This simple but significant 
service Avas as follows : the two armies were 
drawn up in military order, in such a manner 
that they might both witness the ceremony. 
General Burgoyne, and General Gates, his con- 
queror, came out of the marquee of the latter 
together. They walked a short distance in 
front, in silence. Presently Burgoyne took a 
step back, drew his sword and handed it to the 



234 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

Amei'icaii general. Gates received it witli a gen- 
tlemanly bow, and tlien gracefully returned it to 
liis vanquished opponent. After which, they 
returned again to the marquee. All this was 
done in silence ; but, though there were no ad- 
dresses, the occasion produced a profound im- 
pression. 

Burgoyne had come to this country wdth the 
command of an army of some ten thousand men, 
provided abundantly Avith all the munitions of 
war. He declared that his army was never to 
retreat. He circulated through the colonies a 
variety of high-sounding, bombastic proclama- 
tions, sometimes filled with threatenings of 
bloodshed and conflagration, and at other times 
calling upon the people to send their deputies to 
him, supplicating his pardon and protection. 
Yet here he is, with his army conquered, himself 
a prisoner, and all his proud boasting proved to 
be vanity. 

This victory will greatly dispirit the royalists 
in all parts of the country, and at the same time 



OF THE DEVOLUTION. 235 

will fill the hearts of tlie friends of liberty with 
encouragement and joy. 

I must not forget to mention that General 
Gates was greatly dependent upon the heroic 
efforts of General Arnold, and the skill and 
bravery of Col. Morgan's riflemen, for the suc- 
cessful issue of the conflict. 

I intend to-morrow to 

Here the journal ended. The remainder, if 
there had ever been any, was torn off and lost. 




CHAPTER XXII. 

THE BRAYE BRITISH WIFE. 

On the ninth of October, 1777, Lady Ack- 
land, the wile of that gallant British officer, Ma- 
jor Ackland, who had followed her husband to 
the war, received the painful intelligence that 
her husband had been shot in the Battle of Still- 
water, and was a prisoner in the hands of the 
enemy. The information was astounding, and 
overwhelmed her with grief. The Baroness 
Eeidesel, who was w ith her, endeavored to com- 
fort her by telling her that his wound was only 
slight, and she had better get a permit to go 
over to the American camp and take care of 
him. She resolved so to do. Her application 
to the British General for permission to pass into 

the American lines resulted iu her obtaining a 
(236) 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 2G7 

letter from Burgoyne to General Gates, inform- 
ing him of her object and asking his protection. 
The night \Aas dark. The rain poured down. 
The air was cold. If she started she must go by 
water in an open boat, and incur the risk of 
being fired at by sentinals before she could ex- 
plain to them her name and errand. But her 
anxiety was so great to reach her husband and 
know the worst of his condition, that she allowed 
none nor all of these considerations to daunt her. 
Obtaining a boat, and taking Avith her a few at- 
tendants, off she started in the darkness and 
storm to find her wounded husband. She ar- 
rived at the American out-posts, chilled with the 
cold, and drenched with the rain. Instead of 
allowing her to pass, the sentinal detained her 
till ^Nlajor Dearborn, who was the of&cer of the 
guard, could be sent for. Upon his arrival he 
gave her permission to land ; escorted her and 
her companions to the guard house ; refreshed 
her with a cup of tea, and furnished her with 
the best accommodations in his power. In the 



238 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 

morning, General Gates was informed of her 
condition. Deeply sympathizing with her in 
her affliction, he provided an escort for her pro- 
tection ; treated her with all the kindness of a 
parent, and gave ordefrs that she should be 
treated with the consideration due to her sex, 
rank, character, and circumstances. She was 
soon after conveyed to Albany, where she had 
the unspeakable satisfaction of finding her hus- 
band and ministering to his wants. 

To appreciate the bravery and fortitude of 
this adventure, it must be remembered that 
Lady Ackland had not been brought up to hard- 
ships. '' She was a woman of the most tender 
and delicate frame ; of the gentlest manners ; 
habituated to all the soft elegancies and refined 
enjoyments that attend high birth and fortune. 
• • • Her mind alone was formed for such 
trials." 




CHAPTER XXIIT. 



THE BATTLE OF BENNINGTON. 

General Bubgoyne's army had left Canada 
witli the view of reducing, once for all, tlie ob- 
stinate Yankee Colonies into subjection to Great 
Britain. They had captured Fort Edward and 
were marching on, flushed with high liopcs, 
when they were unexpectedly and completely 
stopped at Bennington. Burgoyne knew tliat 
at this pl;)ce large numbers of cattle were col- 
lected for the use of the American soldiers. 
There also were large quantities of corn, flour, 
and other articles necessary for an army, depos- 
ited. He therefore sent a detachment of flve 

hundred men, some of whom were cavalry, and 

(230J 



240 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

one hundred Indians, all under Colonel Baum, 
to take Bennington by surprise and get posses- 
sion of the cattle and stores there. The result 
of the attempt will be learned from the follow- 
ing conversation of two petty officers, which oc- 
curred the next morning. 

" Hallo, Corporal, yesterday's affair was a 
pretty good programme, pretty well filled." 

" That's true, Serjeant. Shake hands on it. 
Show me the Yankee that isn't happy to-day ! " 

"Good reason. Our victory was something 
to boast of, and the Tories can't say this time it 
Avas more by hit than wit."' 

* Colonel Baum had a capital position on these 
heii^hts. And his redoubts here are no mean 

o 

affair for a first-class soldier.'' 

'' Ah," replied the Corporal, " and he de- 
fended them well too. His Germans fought us 
like tigers for two hours. But they couldn't 
stand our old fire-locks. How they did hate to 
run, though, when we rushed them out of their 
entrenchments, and across the brool: 3'onder ! " 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 241 

" I tell you, Baum was an old war-liorse. But 
he found his match when he met Jno. Stark." 

''Did 3'ou ever see anything finer than Stark's 
disposition of our troops ? " • 

''I don't know what the disposition of the 
troops was. I only know that all hands roug!;t 
splendidly on both sides — except those sneak- 
ing Indians who filed off between the armies, 
early in the battle, and dodged out of harm's 
way." 

" Well, the plan was this : Colonel Nichols was 
sent with two hundred men to attack the rear 
of the enemy's left ; and Colonel lierrick with 
three hundred vvas commanded to fall upon the 
rear of the enemy's right." There, you see, was 
a master-stroke to begin Avith. Tlten Colonels 
Hubbard and Stickney were ordered to advance 
with two hundred men on the right, and one 
hundred men in front, whilst Stark himself came 
up slowly and supported the hundred with all 
his reserve." 



242 SOLDIEPwS AND PATEIOTS 

*' Why, that ^^•as spreading a complete net for 
them," replied the CorporaL 

" See now how it worked. At three o'clock 
yesterday afternoon, Colonel Nichols opened his- 
fire upon the rear of the enemy's left. Then 
Herrick's men attacked the rear of the enemy's 
light ; all according to arrangement. Vv'ell, 
while these were galling them so from beliindy 
Hubbard and Stickney's men were performing 
their assigned parts in the play, and Stark com- 
ing up in front with his troops, there was no 
way for the enemy, you see, but to fight it out 
in a general engagement, and win or lose at one 
throAV. They held their ground bravely, but 
Stark had put the whole strain on them at once, 
and Avhen they broke and retreated at five o'clock 
it was almost a matter of course. I think there 
w^as as much skill in the plan, as valor in the 
fight — and one deserves as much credit as the 
other for the victor}^" 

^' And yel," said the Corporal, •• we came near 
losing the day after that." 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 243 

"So we did," added the Sergeant, '-and had 
not a kind PrDvidence favored us, we should be 
retreating now. The trouble was, as we liad 
driven off the German and British troops, and 
the day seemed to be certainlj^ ours, the militia 
left their colors and scattered off the battle- 
ground for plunder. Thej expected that many 
of the enemy who had fallen had money, 
watches, or other valuable articles in their pos- 
session, and they were resolved to obtain them. 
It was \\hile they were off engaged in this treas- 
ure-hunting, that Colonel Brehman, with his five 
hundred Grenadiers, light infantry and chasseurs, 
came unexpectedly to the relief of the British, I 
lialf believed our fortune had turned Avhen he 
rallied the beaten army and drove us back. But 
the tide didn't set that way long. Up comes 
Colonel Warren's regiment of Continentals jist in 
time. He throws his whole weight on Brehman. 
The scattered militia get into battle-line; we 
fight the ground over again; and away goes 



244 



SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS. 



Brehman leaving his artillery and baggage be- 
hind him." 

" Don't you fancy, Sergeant, that the result 
might have been different if Baum hadn't been 
mortally wounded?" 

"Hardly. But he was a brave and able 
officer, and one whom even Stark might feel 
proud to conquer." 





CHAPTER XXIV. 



Washington's faeewell. 



By the unanimous vote of Congress, Washing- 
ton was chosen Commander-in-chief of the 
American army, and on the 2d day of July, 
1775, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, he publicly 
entered upon the discharge of this important 
and responsible duty. The tree is yet standing, 
under "which, on that impressive occasion, the 
officers of the army were gathered together, to 
■welcome their new chief, and first recognize the 
wise leadership which made American Indepen- 
dence sure. 

After that o^lorious result had been achieved, 

and there w^as no further occasion for the contin- 

(245) 



246 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS , 

uance of an army, Washington took leave of his 
officers, and returned, clothed with honor, to his 
quiet retreat at Mount Vernon. This parting- of 
Washington from the brave officers of his arm}^ 
with whom he had suffered hardship, and shared 
the perils of many battle fields, presented a scene 
of peculiar tenderness and solemnity. It oc- 
curred at Frances' Tavern, in the city of New 
York, on the 4th day of December, 1783. 

About noon the officers of the army were as- 
sembled in one of the rooms of the hotel, and, 
whilst indulging in conversation with each other, 
the door opened and Washington entered. The 
feelings of his heart were too strong to be con- 
cealed. They betrayed themselves in his sad- 
dened countenance, and eyes that swam with 
tears. According to the custom of the times, 
he poured out a glass of wine, and raising it, 
said : 

" With a heart full of love and gratitude, I 
now take leave of you ; I most devoutly wish 
that your latter days may be as prosperous and 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 247 

happy as your former ones have been glorious 
and honorable." 

He then raised the glass and drank. After 
which he said : 

" I cannot come to each of you to take my 
leave, but shall be obliged if each of you will 
come and take me by the hand." 

As General Knox was the nearest to him, he 
turned and extended to him his hand. Wash- 
ington w^as unable to speak. He grasped the 
hand of his companion-in-arms, and then silently 
embraced him. It was a deeply touching scene. 
The other officers then followed, of whom he 
took leave in the same affectionate manner. 
There were no congratulations at the success of 
the war — no expressions of commendation — 
no "good-byes " and '' God bless you." Not a 
word was uttered, though all eyes were filled 
with tears, and every heart throbbed with deep 
emotion. Dignity, silence and solemnity pre- 
vailed. 

This being over, Washington left the room; 



248 . SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS 

passed tliroiigli a corps of light infantry, and 
proceeded on foot to the Battery, at the southern 
extremity of the citj^ He vras followed by all 
the officers, soldiers, and a large crowd of spec- 
tators. Having reached White Hall, he entered 
a barge, turned to the assembled multitude, and 
raising his hat, he gracefullj^ Avaved it, and bade 
them a silent adieu. The officers did the same ; 
and after waiting until the barge, with its pre- 
cious freight, had proceeded a considerable dis- 
tance from the shore, they returned to the 
tavern. 

Washington was taken by the barge to Paulas 
Hook. From there he proceeded slowly to 
Annapolis, in Maryland, where Congress was 
then in session, having adjourned thither from 
Princeton. Everywhere on the route he was 
received with testimonials of the highest respect 
and honor. There were processions, military 
displays, dinners, addresses, and public recep- 
tions, by legislatures of States, corporations of 



OF THE EETOLUTIOK. 249 

towns, scientific associations, and religions 
societies. 

It was like a continual triumphant march. 
Throughout his whole coui-se he was welcomed 
by the spontaneous sentiment of the people as 
the " Saviour of his countr3^" No other militaiy 
chieftain ever received such pure and strong 
manifestations of the esteem and love of a free 
people ; no other was so deserving. 

After reaching Annapolis, he informed the 
President of his readiness to relinquish the com- 
mission which he had received from Congress as 
Commander-in-cMef of the American forces. 

Accordingly, on the twentj^-third of Decem- 
ber, in the presence of all the members of Con- 
gress, and a large assembly of spectators, he 
publicly resigned his office. Jn so doing he de- 
livered a calm . dignified and appropriate address, 
which he closed as follows : 

" Having now finished the work assigned me, 
I retire from the great theatre of action, and 
bidding an affectionate farewell to this august 



250 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS. 

body, under whose orders I have so long acted, 
I here offer my commission, and take ray leave 
of all the employments of public life." He then 
stepped to the desk of the President of the Con- 
crress, and delivered into his hands his commis- 
sion. The President, in receiving it, delivered an 
address in reply. Washington then left for Mount 
Vernon, and arrived there the same day, after 
an unbroken absence of eight years. 





CHAPTER XXV. 



COL. bratton's wife. 



** So:mb of tlie most gallant actions of the Rev- 
olutionary war were performed in the South," 
said a young man to one of the discharged offi- 
cers of the Revolution, " and I hope whoever 
attempts to write its history will not fail to give 
an account of Huck's defeat." 

'• I have heard that it was a splendid affair, 
but I never learned the particulars," replied the 
officer. 

" Well, sir, I will relate them as I heard them 
from one who was present in the action." 

" I should be pleased to listen, as nothing 

gratifies me more than the narratives of those 

(251) 



252 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

adventures. I was at the North at that time, or 
I should have learned the whole affair." 

" Colonel Bratton," commenced the young 
man, "was a bold and skillful officer. None 
knew better than he how to watch and surprise 
an enemy, and often he would fall fiercely upon 
the British at unexpected hours, and spread 
havoc and destruction through tbeir ranks. He 
became so troublesome to them that they deter- 
mined to destroy him. That however was easier 
to propose than to do. Still, they made the at- 
tempt. They appointed Captain Huck, with 
four hundred men to pursue him, and hunt him 
down. Iluck knew Bratton's residence ( in 
Bratton'sville, South Carolina). So he came to 
the house one evening vrith a squad of men, and 
ushered himself without ceremony into the pres- 
ence of the Colonel's wife. 

" ' Where's your rebel husband?' he inquired 
in a rough tone of authority. 

" Without being moved she simply yet proudly 
replied, ' Where such good men as Col. Bratton 



OF THE PvEVOLUTION. 253 

ought to be ; in Sumter's army.' Now Sumter 
was a real plague to the British, as they con- 
fessed; and hence the reply of Mrs. Bratton 
greatly incensed Huck. He however smothered 
his anger and said. 

" ' Your cause, Mrs. Bratton is in a bad condi- 
tion. Your friends are coming over to our side, 
the side of his Majesty, and your soldiers can 
hold out but a short time longer, you had better 
inform me of Bratton 's- place of retreat.' 

" ' He has no place of retreat sir. Go to Gen- 
eral Sumter if you want to know where my hus- 
band is posted.' 

'* ' I tell you again, the rebel cause is desper 
ate, Mrs. Bratton. It's a pity your husband 
should continue a whig when the tory side is 
destined to triumph. If you will prevail on him 
to unite with his Majesty's forces, Le shall re- 
ceive a commission in the army.' 

^' ' I had rather see my husband perish a rebel, 
as you please to call him, than to see him wear 
the highest honors in the power of the king's 



254 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

officers to bestow.' This fearless reply filled the 
hearers with such indignation that one of the 
soldiers seized a reaping-hook that was in the 
room, and made an effort to cut her throat with 
it."' 

" Just like the murderous crew ! " cried the 
officer, excited by the narrative of his young 
friend. " Just like them ! They could cut 
down females and children without the least 
compunction." 

" In this instance however the attempt was 
thwarted," said the young man. 

" Glad of that," was the response. "How 
was it done ? " 

" Why, the officer who was second in com- 
mand sprang forward ; seized the would be mur- 
derer, and forcibly rescued the lady from her 
peril. Had it not been for his interference she 
would have been slain upon the spot. This hu- 
mane deliverance on the part of the officer did 
not go unrewarded." 



OF THE EEVOLUTIOX. 255 

'• What ! did she pay him for doing no more 
than was his duty? " 

" Not exactly ; yet he did get his pay, as you 
will see before I get through." 

" Well, the red-coats were not ready yet to 
leave the house. They were hungry, and the 
least they could do now by Avay of annoying 
Mrs. Bratton was to oblige her to get supper for 
them. After this they went to another house 
not far off and quartered there for the night, 
while his soldiers encamped near by. Of course, 
they intended next morning to resume their 
hunt for Col. Bratton. 

''Now it so happened that Bratton himself 
had received information of their movements, 
and found where they were spending the night. 
Yfith characteristic energy, he resolved at once 
to give them an unexpected visit, and if possible 
cut them off with a stroke. It was a daring, 
almost a reckless undertaking, for he had only 
fifty men, while Huck, as I have said had four 
hundred. Not knowing that their pursued en- 



256 SOLDIESS AND PATRIOTS 

emy was so near, or that any enemy was at 
hand, Hnch's men did not keep a vigilant guard. 
Their sentinels, if any were appointed, fell 
.asleep at their post. The first thej knew of 
any danger, they learned from the shouting and 
firing of Bratton's troops in the midst of them. 
As usual he had come silently and stealthily, 
upon them, and finding them asleep, had pounced 
upon them 'like a wolf on the fold.' Those 
who were not killed while dreaming, awoke, 
sprang to their feet, seized their weapons in con- 
fusion and dismay, and made a wild attempt to 
fight for their lives. It was all in vain, Brat- 
ton's men were cool, and knew their ground. 
Besides, they had all the advantage of the first 
move in the game. Consternation seized the 
camp, and though many resisted desperately 
their struggles effected little. Huck himself 
was slain, and then the command devolved upon 
the second officer, who had saved the life of Mrs. 
Bratton the evening before. He strove with 
great valor to rally his men, and stimulate them 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 257 

to make a vigorous defense. But a panic had 
seized them and they were beyond his controL 
As tlie men fled they were pursued, Tims tlie 
scene of action changed ground, and reached the 
premises around Bratton's house. The enemy 
were to tall}" routed. Many were slain, and a 
number were taken prisoners, among whom was 
the second officer. As the British had treated 
with great inhumanity the Americans whom 
they had taken prisoners, putting man}' of them 
cruelly to death, the conquerers on this occasion 
determined to retaliate. Naturally the com- 
mander was first doomed. Some were opposed 
to his death, and remonstrated. Blood enough 
had been shed in the conflict they said. How 
could unnecessary cruelty on the part of the 
British, justify unnecessary cruelty in Ameri- 
cans ? An example of humanity (they argued) 
would have a better effect upon the enemy than 
this useless shedding of a prisoner's blood. They 
were over-ruled however by the voice of the ma- 
jority, and the officer was condemned to die. 



258 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

When he was informed of his doom, he exhib- 
ited no unmanly fear y lie asked no mercy. He 
simply requested to see Mrs. Bratton before he 
died. His request was granted. As soon as the 
lady saw him, she recognised him as the person 
who had saved her life when the enraged soldier 
brandished the reaping-hook at her throat. In- 
fluenced by gratitude she resolved to save her 
deliverer if it were in her power. She pleaded 
for him, and though at first his captors gave no 
heed to her entreaties, when she told them in 
glowing terms of the good deed by which the 
man had earned a better fate, their resolution 
began to waver. 

" ' But for his kind and timely interference I 
should not have been here alive. If you respect 
me, then for my sake spare him. You will not 
put my deliverer to death.' Her plea was suc- 
cessful. It is needless to say that with CoL 
Bratton, at least, such argument was omnipotent. 
The sentence was revoked, and the British ofQ.- 
cer was saved. ' Blessed are the merciful, for 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 259 

they shall obtain mercy.' That lady's kindness 
was none the less noble for illustrating one of 
the beatitudes so well." 

" She was just the right kind of a woman for 
an officer's wife." 

" That she was," replied the j^oung man. 
" Tliere is another fact in her history that 
would prove it if any more proof uas needed. 
She was as thoughtful and discreet as she was 
brave and kind." 

" Let's have the fact," said the officer, impa- 
tient to hear more of this heroine of the South. 
" At one time Colonel Bratton had stored, 
Avith great secrecy (as he thought), a large 
quantity of ammunition a short distance from 
his house. In some way, but how I nevei 
learned, the British obtained a knowledge of 
this, and resolved to seize the stores. A partj 
of troops was dispatched for this purpose. Mrs 
Bratton heard of their advance and knew their 
errand. As it was impossible to remove the am- 



260 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

munition, she determined that, at least, the Brit- 
ish should not use it. It would be less of a loss 
to the Americans to burn it all at once than to 
leave it to be made into cartridges for their ene- 
mies' guns. She therefore resolved to set it on 
fire herself. No time was to be lost. 

" The British were coming and would soon be 
there. She prepared a slow match, or some sort 
of train, and laying it with care to tlie magazine 
awaited the approach of the enemy. As soon as 
she saw the plumes of the coming column, she 
touched the train, and fled to a safe distance. 
The fire slowly crept towards the powder. Tlie 
British came rapidly along the road ; but before 
they reached the house a loud explosion shook 
the ground and filled the air with smoke and 
flying fragments. Cheated thus out of their 
coveted booty, at the moment they were about 
to seize it, the wrathful and disgusted red-coats 
wheeled about, and marched back to their 
camp." 



OF THE KEYOLUTION. 



261 



" Good, good ! " shouted the officer in great 
glee, after hearing the 3'oung man's recital, 
*'GoodI" continued he, clapping his hands. 
" The brave woman ! 
medal and a monument ! " 



She ought to have a 





CHAPTER XXVI. 



THE CONCEALED GUAED. 



On tlie 23cl of September, 1780, three plain, 
honest countrymen were concealed behind some 
bushes on the side of the road, on the eastern 
bank of the Hudson river, about half a mile above 
Tarrytown. At that time the British had pos- 
session of the city and surrounding suburbs of 
New Yoriv, whilst the Americans were encamped 
further to the North, their lines extending to 
White Plains. The country between the lines 
of the two parties was greatly exposed to incur- 
sions from the British, who would come up from 
New York, seize all the horses, cattle, grain and 
hogs they could find, and escape with them to 

New York. Voluntary patrol guards were estab- 
(262) 



SOLDIERS AND PATKIOTS 263 

lislied amonGT the Americans who resided on tliis 
" neutral ground," to watch for these lawless in- 
cursions, and, by alarming the people, rouse 
them to resist and defeat the object of these 
military robbers. Another practice which such 
guards were intended to prevent was, the trad- 
ing away of cattle, or property of any kind, by 
sly Tories, to the British below. Where this 
was attempted, the persons who succeeded in 
detecting the guilty parties were, by the law of 
the State, entitled to all the cattle or goods 
which they thus captured on their way to the 
enemy. It was customary, also, for the captors 
to take for their own use all the personal effects, 
as jewelry, money, etc., which they found upon 
their prisoners. 

These were amono- the reasons which miu^ht 
have induced these three men to be h^ing here 
in ambush, for the purpose of seizing suspicious 
passers-by. The names of these three men were 
John Paulding, Isaac Van Wart and David Wil- 
liams. They had lain some time in their con- 



264 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

cealment, when a man was seen on the crest of 
the hill, coming clown into the valley. 

" Some one heaves in sight," said Paulding. 

" AVhat is he ? " inquired WilUams. 

The three men peeped through the bushes as 
well as they were able, until the traveler had 
nearly descended the hill, when Paulding said : 

" He's no game for us. It's Neighbor Jones." 

They did not accost him, nor reveal the place 
of their concealment. Two or three others 
passed b}'-, whom they knew to be friendly to the 
American cause, and whom they did not inter- 
rupt. 

There they remained till about ten o'clock, 
when a person on horseback made his appear- 
ance. 

"Heigho!" said one of the party, "there 
comes a stranger." 

" Yes," replied one of the others, in a low 
tone of voice, " he looks like a gentleman. He's 
well dressed, and has boots on ; if you don't 



OF THE EEYOLIJTION. 265 

know him you had better step out and stop 
hun." 

Upon that, Paulding' arose from the ground on 
which he was sitting, stepped out into the road, 
presented bis firelock to the breast of the stran- 
ger, ordered him to stand, and said : 

" Which way are you going ? " 

Paulding had previously been taken a prisoner 
by the British. A good suit of clothes which 
he then had on were taken from him by the offi- 
cer who had been in charge, and an old, worn- 
out British suit given him in their stead. A 
portion of this suit he now wore, and Andre, 
seeing the military buttons of this suit, naturally 
supposed that he was a Tor}-, or that he belonged 
to the British army. Hence he incautiousl}^ re- 
plied to Paulding's question by saying : 

" Gentlemen, I hope you belong to our party." 

" What party ? " replied Paulding. 

" The lower party," he answered. 

The British were called the lower party, be- 
cause they were garrisoned in New York, which 



266 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

was doicn the river, so that the stranger, by tliis 
reply, acknowledged himself to be an English- 
man. In order to draw out of him all they could, 
the men who had stopped him pretended that 
they belonged to that party also. This threw 
the traveler entirel}^ off his guard, and he at once 
said : 

" T am a British officer, on particular business, 
and I hope 3'ou will not detain me a minute." 

To convince them that he was a British officer, 
he showed them his watch. This was enough to 
satisfy the men that he was some important per- 
sonage, and ought to be carefully searched. 

Pauldinix therefore told him to dismount. The 
stranger was surprised, and suspected that his 
captors, instead of being, as they professed to 
be, on the side of the British, were in sympathy 
with the Americans ; and that, consequently, he 
was a prisoner. Realizing that he had exposed 
his real character by acknowledging that he was 
a British officer, he exclaimed : 

'' My God I I must do anything to get along^" 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 26T 

He then pretended that his statement of being 
on the side of tlie English was a mere hoax. 
That he was only jesting. Instead of being a 
British officer, he was an American. 

" I am an American. My name is John 
Anderson." 

" Where are you going ? " 

*' I am going to Dobb's Ferry, to meet a per- 
son there wlio has got some intelligence for 
General Arnold." 

He then took from his pocket General Ar- 
nold's pass, and showed it to them. It was as 
follows : 

Head Quarters, Robinson's House, 

Sept. 22cZ, 1780. 
Permit 3Ir. John Anderson tj jjass the Guards 
to the White Plains, or heloiv if lie Chooses, he Ic- 
ing on Public Business hj my Direction. 

B. ARNOLD, J/. Gen'l. 

Paulding read this, and would have released 



268 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

the prisoner if he had not previousl}^ said he 
was a British officer. 

"I hope,'' said Paulding, "j'oii will not be 
offended, sir. We do not intend to rob jou. 
There are many bad people on the road, and we 
did not know but you might be one. Please 
step this way, sir." 

The stranger having dismounted, they took 
him one side, and told him to undress. As he 
took off his clothes, they examined every pocket, 
felt between the linings, and made a thorough 
search, but could find nothing. They looked 
into his hat. There was nothing there. They 
then told him to take off his boots. Without 
the least reluctance he complied. After pulliug 
off one of his boots, the men looked in and felt 
in, but there was nothing there. They then felt 
the bottom of his foot, and found there was 
something between the sole of his foot and the 
stocking. 

" Please pull off your stocking, sir." 

He did so, and in the bottom of it were found 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 269 

three papers. Paulding opened tliem, and, after 
reading a portion of them, said ; 

" He's a spy ! " 

" Take off jour other stocking, sir." 

This also was examined, and three more pa- 
pers were found. After having made this im- 
portant discovery, the men told him to dress 
himself. 

" What will you give us to let you go ? " 
asked Paulding. 

'• I will give you any sum of money you'll 
name," he replied. 

" Will you give us your horse, saddle, bridle, 
watch, and one hundred guineas ? " 

" Yes. And I will have them delivered at 
any point, — yes, even in this very spot, so that 
you may be sure to get them." 

" Won't you give us any more ? " 

" Yes, I will give you any quantity of dry 
goods, or any amount of money, and send it to 
any place you will name." 

'' No," said Paulding, '' if you would give us 



270 SOLDIEKS AND PATEIOTS 

ten thousand guineas you should not stir one 
step." 

" Wouldn't you get away if you could ? " 

" Certainly I would." 

" I don't intend that you shall." 

The three men led their prisoner along, asking 
him questions on the way, until he requested 
them to ask no more, as he would reveal all 
when they brought him to some military com- 
mander. The nearest military post was North 
Castle, under the command of Lieut. Col. Jame- 
son. Within a few hours he was taken thither, 
and delivered into the hands of Jameson, with 
all the papers that had been found in his stock- 
ings. Great was the surprise of his captors, 
when their prisoner confessed himself to be 
Major John Andre, Adjutant-General in the 
British army. 

The papers which were found upon him 
proved to be very important documents. They 
contained a variety of valuable information, re- 
specting the condition and resources of West 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 271 

Point ; how the army there were to conduct 
themselves in case they shoakl be attacked, 
what were the weak points of their defences, and 
hints respecting the operations of the Americans 
in the approaching campaign. All of these 
papers were in the undisguised hand of Bene- 
dict Arnold. It was plainly evident that Arnold 
w\as a traitor, and Andre was a spy ! When 
Arnold, who had command of the important post 
at West Point, and had furnished these danger- 
ous papers to the enemy, learned of their cap- 
ture, he immediately fled from the American 
camp, engaged six men to row him down the 
river, under a flag of truce, to the British ship 
Vulture, and then had the meanness to keep all 
the men prisoners on board the Vulture, and 
have them carried to New York. As soon, how- 
ever, as they arrived there. Sir Henry Clinton, 
the British general, despising such contemptible 
conduct, set them all at liberty. 

Andre was tried as a spy, found guilty, and 
hung. It was a subject of general regret that 



272 soLDiEr.s and patriots. 

Arnold could not have been substituted in liis 
place. 

According to the custom which, as we have 
said, prevailed, Andre's captors obtained his 
horse, saddle, bridle and watch. These were 
sold, and tlie money divided between the three 
men and four others who were in their company, 
and were watching on the top of the liill when 
Andre was taken. 





CHAPTER XXVII. 



DEBOEAH SAMSON, THE GIBL SOLDIER. 



It was a beautiful day in the summer of 1799, 
when an old lady and two young girls, who had 
been wanderino^ amoncf the moss-covered and 
almost obliterated grave-stones of the ancient 
cemetery on the hill of Plymouth, had seated 
themselves upon a low monument. This monu- 
ment had the appearance of a sailor's chest, ex- 
cept that it was all of stone. The sides and 
ends were of red sand-stone, the top was a thick 
slab of blue slate-stone, with a death's head and 
cross-bones carved upon it, under which were 
inscriptions to the memory of those Avhose mor- 
tal remains were reposing beneath. The ancient 

(273) 



274 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

gambrel-roofed houses of the early settlers, min- 
gling with those of more modern date^ extended 
along down the street, whilst the blue water of 
the bay where the famous May Flower rode out 
the storms of the pilgrims' first winter was re- 
flecting the blue sky in the distance. 

Among these ancient grayes the ladies had 
been conversing respecting the courage, the pa- 
tience, the firmness and the piety of the women 
©f Plymouth, the inscriptions on some of whose 
graves they had been reading. 

'•^ Did you say. Grandmother, that women 
took part in the war of the Revolution ? " asked 
the youngest, a blue-eyed little lassie with nu- 
merous flaxen ringlets falling around her sweet 
face. Like many a Plymouth girl, this pretty 
girl had received the poetic name of Rose, after 
Rose Standish, of course. 

'^ Yes, childie, they took part in more ways 
than one." 

" You don't me^n that any actually went to 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 275 

the wars and fought?" continued the blue-eyed 
and bright-minded girl. 

" I know of one who did; and she was born 
in this very town." 

" Who was she, and do we know any of her 
descendants ? " inquired the older sister who was 
a short, plump, brunette. Her interest in the 
conversation had been slight until now. 

" Her name was Deborah Samson." 

"Do tell us all about her," said Rose. ''I 
know it must be interesting. We should like to 
hear it, shouldn't we, Rachel ? " And she set- 
tled down nearer her grandmother, so glad of a 
" story." 

Grandmother began: "Well, you see, De- 
borah belonged to a family who had to work for 
a living. Her edecation was poor; though, 
while she went to school, which was only for a 
short time, she showed she had a good mind and 
a strong memory. When the Revolution broke 
out, Deborah at once became greatly interested 
in it. Her thought, day and night, was to do 



276 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS 

sometliing to help the American cause. I heard 
her say more'n once, ' I'm sorry, sorry^ soeey 1 
ain't a man ! If I was, Fd shoulder a firelock 
and march agin the Red-coats ! ' 

" By industry and economy Debby had man- 
aged to lay up ten or twelve dollars. She fi- 
nall}^ determined to spend this vast sum in the 
cause of liberty. So she thought and thought 
how to do it; and the more she thought the 
more anxious she felt to do more than simply 
give this money to the " rebels," as the Ameri- 
cans were called. 

" She was personally a brave girl, she had also 
a streak of romance in her nature, she had no 
strong family ties to prevent her from following 
out a fancy ; and at last she made up her mind 
to enlist in the army herself, and, side by side 
with her countrymen, to fight agin the red- 
coats and drive them from the land — " 

" Would they take a girl into the army. 
Grandma? " interrupted Rose. 

"Not if they knew she was a girl. Debby 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 277 

was aware of that. That was her great diffi- 
culty. But you know the old saying, ' Where 
there's a will there's a way.' Debby had the 
will to be a soldier, and Debby found a way. 
Mighty sly though she had to be,'' added the old 
lady with a shake of the head. 

" I should think so ! " said Rachel. " How 
could she do it ? — do hurry, Grandmother ! " 

" Well, with her ten or twelve dollars, she 
bought a quantity of cheap fustian. Out of this 
she cut a suit of men's clothes. On these she 
worked whenever she could without being seen, 
or exciting inquiry. When she had finished one 
article, she carefully concealed it in a hay-stack 
a short distance from the house. She then 
worked upon another ; and when that was com- 
pleted she hid it in the same place. In this way 
the whole suit was made. Tiiis accomplished, 
she pretended she was dissatisfied with her 
wages where she was, and gave out that she was 
going to some other town in order to get more. 
So she tied up her new suit of fustian, and tak- 



278 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

ing some few other articles, off she went. After 
getting out of town, she stepped out of the road 
into a retired spot. There, with a few good 
wholesome blushes, she threw off her v/oman's 
apparel, and put on the suit of fustian." 

" I guess she looked pretty queer," said Rose, 
laughing. 

"• I guess she felt pretty queer ? " said Rachel. 

''I wonder if she knew herself when she 
looked into a brook, and saw somebody dressed 
in men's clothes looking up at her," said the 
pretty Rose, blushing into a very red Rose at 
the bare thought. 

" Well, what did she do after she changed her 
dress ? " inquired Rachel, returning to the story. 

" She hastened to the American camp ; and 
there, in October 1778, she enlisted in the army 
under the name of Robert Shirtliffe. She pa- 
raded with the men ; she slept in tents ; she 
stood sentinal ; she performed all the duties of a 
common soldier." 

" But did she fight? " inquired Rose. 



OP THE REVOLUTION. 279 

"Fight? Certainly she did, childiel She 
was as courageous as any of the soldiers- In 
war, when any very dangerous enterprise is to 
be executed, and they want none but real 
brave men, they are accustomed to ask the sol- 
diers to offer their services, that is, to go of their 
own accord. Those who will do so are called 
•" volunteers ; " and it is well known that none 
but the brave will volunteer. Well, I've heern 
it said that Debby was always one of the volun- 
teers on such occasions, and that she would fight 
as courageously as the best on 'em ! " 

"I wonder she didn't get wounded some- 
times," 

'* She was wounded two or three times. Rose. 
Once she was cut in the head with a sword. At 
another time she was shot through her shoulder. 
Her great fear was lest, being wounded, it 
should be discovered that she was a girl in dis- 
guise. She would rather have died in the 
battle. 

" She was not discovered by her wounds ; but 



280 SOLDIEES AKD PATRIOTS 

afterwards she Avas seized with brain fever. She 
suiiered greatly. She feai-ed that s\\<^ would ])Q- 
coiiic delirious, and reveal her secret. In that 
case the shame of her exposure ^^ ould be over- 
whehiiiug. Her symptoms grew worse. Delir- 
ium did set in. She was taken to the hospital 
where were a laro^e number of others, and, as a 
consequence, her case did not receive so much 
attention as it otherwise would. 

'' But one day, as the surgeon was taking his 
daily rounds, he inquired of the nurse, ' How is 
Robert?' 

" The mournful answer was, ' Poor Bob is 
gone.' As the nurse saw no indication of life, 
she supposed that the patient Avas dead. 

" The doctor approached the bed and ex- 
amined the pulse. He found that it was feebly 
beating, he then attempted to lay his baud over 
the heart, and then — poor, brave, Debby ! her 
secret was no longer her own ! But the physi- 
cian Lad both discretion and generositj'. He 
paid her every attention, and when she had re- 



OF THE EE VOLUTION. 281 

covered sufficiently to be removed lie took lier 
to Lis own lioiise. This ste[) created coiL-ider- 
able surprise in the doctor's faniil}', but the 
young soldier soon became a favorite. 

" Whilst she was in the doctor's house a very 
romantic incident occurred." 

" Oh, what Avas that ? " cried Rachel, eagerly. 

" Well, the doctor had a niece, an' I heern tell 
she was a raal han'som bod}', rich, too. Well, 
this niece became very much interested in the 
sick soldier. 

'' They often, as the patient's health improved, 
took rides together ; and finally the niece con- 
trived to make known to the blushing Robert 
her attachment ; and she contrived, too, to pro- 
pose that they shouhl get married." 

" What a bold girl ! " exclaimed Rachel. 

'* I think so myself," added the old lad}^ 
'* and be sure it was a sore affliction to Debby. 
However, without pretending to return her at- 
tachment, she simply said they would ' see each 
other again.' 



282 soLDrEns and patriots 

" After her full recovery, the doctor, with the 
permission of the captain of her company, gave 
her a letter to take to General Washington. 
Our quick-witted Debby immediately suspected 
she was discovered ; and that this letter was in- 
tended to give the commander-in-chief a knowl- 
edge of her secret. However, as it was the 
duty of a soldier to obey orders, without asking 
questions, she carried the letter to head-quar- 
ters. 

"When she went into the presence of Wash- 
ington, all dressed in her regimentals, she was 
greatly agitated. The Gin'ral noticed it. He 
requested one of his attendants to take her out, 
and give her some refreshments. 

" Whilst she was gone, Washington read the 
letter. When she returned, without saying a 
word, the Gin'ral put into her hand a discharge 
from the army. He also gave her a private note 
containing good advice, and a sum of money 
sufficient for her present wants. Debby of tea 
expressed her gratitude for the great kindness 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 



283 



and delicacy with which Washington treated 
her — and, in fact, the good surgeon too."- 
" Was she ever married, Grandma ? " 
" Yes, after the close of the war she married a 
Mr. Benjamin Gannett, of Sharon, Massachu- 
setts. 

" But come, dears, the sun is going down, and 
we must hurry if we would reach home before 
dark." 





CHAPTER XXVIII. 



SOLDIEES' YAKKS. 



Aftee the war of the Revolution was over, 
naturally enough the " old soldiers " who had 
been discharged from the army, dearly loved to 
tell over the incidents of their hard service, and 
amuse their friends with stories of both the 
written and unwritten events of their long cam- 
paigns. These stories were always listened to 
with keen interest by attentive hearers, gathered 
in stores and taverns, or around patriotic fire- 
sides. 

Let the reader fancy himself one of a small but 

miscellaneous audience, in a certain New York 

inn, on an evening late in the autumn of the 
(284) .. 



SOLDIEES AWD PATRIOTS. 285 

year 1800. Five veterans, representing as many- 
regiments, and almost every section of Revolu- 
tionary service, were sitting there, hale old fel- 
lows well met, joking each other, and comparing 
ages, good looks, and personal exploits. 

They had just eaten and drank together, and 
their tongues, loosened by good cheer, ran glib 
with the old jargon of the camp, and delivered 
curious and entertaining snatches of warhke 
history. 

One of them, a big, loose-jointed Yankee, with 
high cheek-bones, and twinkling grey eyes, who 
was addressed as " Leftenant Longshort," be- 
cause his clothes were always too scant for his 
size, had been toasting some of the favorite he- 
roes of the old army, and when he came out 
with '' Gin'ral Lincoln — a Solon in council, a 
Caesar in war," a comrade took up the senti- 
ment, and made it the cue for a little talk of his 
own. This man had served under Lincoln, and 
been severely hurt, so that he was much grown 
out of shape ; but he made light of his deform- 



286 SOLDIEES AND PATEIOTS. 

it}^, and dubbed himself " King Richard " (after 
the royal hunchback), a nickname which his 
cronies usually shortened to '' Dick." 

" As to Lincoln," said Dick, '' I won't yield to 
nobody in speakin' praise. He desarves it. 
Wise an brave 's the word when ye name him. 
He was a better man 'n Caesar, though, to my 
thinkin'. But I shan't make no speech. Ill tell 
a story o' suthin' as took place in th' yarmy 
when Lincoln was my division commander. It's 
about a ghost, an' a hangin' match." 

" What ? did they hang a ghost ? " asked 
Longshort, pricking up his ears. 

" Ye'll know," replied Richard, "if ye'll lis- 
ten. You see, we had one feller in our rigiment 
thet was 'bout one-half Tory an' t'other half 
scapegrace. He was in all kinds o' scrapes — 
continooally makin' trouble for himself an' the 
rest on us. I allers thought he was a Britisher 
in continentals. Well, he made severial attempts 
to git away, and desart to the inimy. But he 
never succeeded. The last time he tried it he 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 287 

was detected an' fetcht up 'fore a court-martial. 
Gin'ral Lincoln was detarmincd to make an ex- 
ample of liim, to all tli' yarmy, so lie was tried, 
and sentenced to be hung instid o' shot. As he 
was on his way to the gallus the division sur- 
geon happened to pass and see him. The sur- 
geon took a good look at the doomed feller, an' 
arter speakin a word or tew to the rigimental 
surgeon on duty, he went off to his quarters. 
"When we arriv' at the place o' execution, our 
rigiment was drawed up in a holler square, 
s'rroundin' a big tree. A sort o' ladder was set 
agin the tree, an' the crim'nal was walked up 
the ladder to whar the rope swung from a hmb. 
Then they fastened the noose round the feller's 
neck. Wall, so fur, so good ; but when they 
cum t' knock out the ladder from under, and the 
man dropped, his heft broke the rope, and down 
he fell, ker-thrash right out' the ground I — I tell 
ye, it made us feel kinder sick all over to see 
that." 



288 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

" Did tliej let him off, then ? " asked Long- 
short. 

*' No. If't had been his fust offence, p'raps 
they would, but he was too old a villain. So 
Left'nant Hamilton ordered another rope. And 
when one was brought, he tried with all his 
strength to break it, an' bein' as it held him, he 
concluded 't was a sure thing this time. Thej 
hitched the desarter to 't, an' sent him swingin' 
agin ; but I'm bless'd 'f that rope didn't break, 
too. Ye see, it spun round wi' the weight, an' 
then it parted. So down cum the feller to the 
ground once more ! As soon as we see that, we 
reckoned that man warn't born to be hunGr. 

o 

3Ve pitied the poor scamp, and we all begun to 
holler ' Merc}^ mercy ! ' ' Let him go ! ' ' Pardon 
him ! ' ' That's enough ! ' 

" So Major Ladson galloped off to headquar- 
ters, an' told Gin'ral Lincoln all about both fail- 
ures, an' how the army cried for mercy on the 
scoundrel. Upon that, the gin'ral gin orders to 
spare him the third hangin', but he was to be 



or THE EEVOLUTION. 281> 

drummed out o' camp, an' if ever afterwards he 
should be ketched inside the lines, lie should die 
the sliortest way. So we set the mis'able wretch 
on his legs (for he was more scairt 'n hurt), an' 
started him a-goin', an' the drummers beat the 
Rogue's March behind till he was out o' sight. 
*' Wall, about midnight, as the division surgeon 
was writin' in his quarters ('twas a barn jest out- 
side o' camp), he heard somethin' creepin' kin- 
der sly under the floor. He looked up — an' 
then I guess thar was one putty well astonished 
man in that barn. Thar was a figger risin' right 
up through a hole in the floor ! It cum towards 
him, an' he could see the featurs ; an' lo an' 
behold, 'twas the ver}^ same man that he'd seen 
goin' to the gallus that mornin', an' thet he 
s'posed was dead an' buried. Wall, the old sur- 
p-eon didn't know whether 't was flesh an' blood 

o 

or a ghost ; so says he : 

'' ' Who are ye ? Where d' ye cum from ? 
What do ye want ? Ain't you the feller 'twas 
hung this morning ? ' 



290 SOLDIEKS AND PATRIOTS 

"■Now, ye see, the app'rition couldn't answer 
all them questions to once, so he begun by 
answe'in' the last one fust. 

^'- ' Yes, sir,' says he, in a thin, shaky voice, 
*• I'm the man you see a-goin to the gallus, an' I 
was hung, but ' 

" ' Keep yer distance I ' hollered the surgeon, 
who'd begun ta feel streaked now, sure enough, 
tho' he was a brave man. The idee o' bein' 
visited at midnight by a character that was hung 
that mornin', warn't at all gratifyin^ to bim. He 
had every reason to s'pose 'twas the ghost o' 
that executed crim'nal, an' nothin' more. 

'' ' Keep your distance,' says he. ' Don't ye 
git any nearer to me till ye tell what ye cum 
for ! ' 

" ' I cum to beg suthin to eat,' sajs the feller, 
in a half whisper, " I ain't no ghost, doctor. 
The EOPE BKOKE when they was a hangin' me, 
— it broke twice, doctor — an' then the rigi- 
ment got a pardon for me. I'm ordered not to 
cum back on pain o' death, but I resked it, for I 



OF THE EEVOLUTION. 291 

was most starved, an' I thought you'd pity me.' 

" When the surgeon heard that he hiffed. 

'•'Oho!' said he. ' If that's the case, you 
may eat and welcome ; but don't ye never ap- 
pear so sudden agin to folks that b'leave ye 
dead.' " 

"A pretty good ghost story,'' said Longshort, 
" and jist about as much real gliost in it as there 
is in any on 'em. But your telling o' that 
hangin' brings to my mind iinother 't I seed 
down South. There was tew lawless rapscallions 
amongst us that we couldn't dew nothin' with. 
They was slipperj^ as Jack Sheppard, an' wicked 
as Cain, Judas Iscariot, and the twelve Caesars, 
all rolled inter one. They was in for all kinds 
o' diviltr\^ whether 't paid or not ; the army 
despised 'em, and the people hated 'em — an", 
to tell the trewth^ fea7'ed 'em, tew. Wall, tliese 
'ere villains was fm'lly took an' tried, an' con- 
demned to be hunc:." 

" Where was it ? " asked Dick, the hunch- 
back. 



292 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

" 'T was in Aiigustj, Georgy, an 't the very 
time, tew, when the place was besieged by the 
inimy. Waal, as I was sayin', they was both 
condemned to the gallus. But when a hangman 
was wanted, ther' couldn't a sojer in the lines be 
found that 'ud volunteer to play Jack Ketch to 
them tew reprobates. They was so all-fired bad, 
not a decent man 'ud tech 'em. Somehow, I 
dunno but the idee 'd got round thet they was 
in league with the Old Harry, an' so anybody 't 
handled 'em 'ud have a cuss follerin' hhn ever 
arterwards. 

" Wall, when the officers found they couldn't 
git a hangman amongst the troops (an' they 
didn't like tev force us to't, 3'e know), they con- 
cluded to pardon the least rascal o' the tew (an' 
'twas mighty hard to tell which), provid<d lied 
liany t' other. When the terms Avas projoosed to 
the feller, he warn't none tew good t' accept 'em, 
an' save his own neck. So he went back on his 
old confederate, an' said he'd dew the job. Now, 
mind 3'e, the inimy was a-firin' on us all that 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 293 

time, from the batteries outside. Wall, the vil- 
lain that was to dew the hangin' went to work, 
'cordin' to orders, on the villain that was to be 
hung, an' in bloody quick time he'd sent him off 
on his long journey, with nothin' to walk on." 

"He hung him, did he?" asked a fat man, 
who went by the name of Roundout, because 
his face was like a full moon. 

" Yes, he hung him, and saved his own life. 
But he didn't keep it long. In a few minutes 
arterwards, an' whilst his comrade was danglin' 
from the rope, a cannon ball from one o 'the 
inimy's batteries struck him on the stomach, an' 
near 'bout cut him in tew ! " 

" I vum ! One rascal foller'd t'other pretty 
close, didn't he ? " commented Humpback. 

"I should call that a raal judgment," said 
Roundout. 

" Yes. Both on 'em was too wicked ter live, 
anyway. An' they'd sarved the divil in company 
so long, that they warn't 'lowed to break part- 
nership." 



294 SOLDIERS AND PATEIOTS 

*' Here, poy," said one of tlie company, who 
looked as if lie belonged to the ancient race of 
Knickerbockers, "hand me tat plate off apples, 
and ten you mvLj hear a shtory apout a brafe lad 
tafc I knew a goot many years ago." 

The waiter, a smart little fellow of twelve or 
thirteen, promptly passed the plate, and Knick- 
erbocker helped himself to a large, beautiful red 
apple. Taking out his knife, he cut the apple 
into halves, then, laying one hemisphere in the 
palm of his left hand, he fell to scraping off the 
pulp for his toothless mouth. 

"You see, in '76, shoost after the Declaration 
off In-te-pendence, te Briteesh vas in dis citee, 
and tey shtaidt here a long vile. Te Americans 
had stationed demselves a few miles from 'ere, 
between te lines of te two armies. Very veil. 
Dere vas a fine garten, vich pelongdt to a vidow. 
Te produce off dis garten vent a goot vaj's to 
support te vidow. Put it vas often robbdt, and 
her most faluable tings carried off. Often tid 
she and her poy go out dere in de mornings, 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 295 

and find, many tings slitolen, and oders all tram- 
let unter voot. Ten tey vould cry, and scholdt, 
and vish fader vas alife, ' He vould put a sbtop 
to soosh doings ! ' tey said." 

*' That didn't dew no good," interrupted Long- 
short. " I never knowed seoldin' to stop thieving 
I'l tell ye what they oughter done ; they oughter 
watched for the robber, and shot him in the 
act." 

" You tink zo 7 " replied Knickerbocker, put- 
ting a mouthful of scooped apple on his tongue. 
" Veil, I tell you tey did something petter." 

" What was that? " asked Humpback Dick. 

" Vy, you see, te vidow's son vas a brafe lee- 
dle fellow. Zo he says : ' Moder, led me vatch 
for te tief. I'll take fader's gun and loadt it, 
and ven te tief comes, I'll make it shpeak to 
him.' 

" Very veil ; you see, te vidow at first tought 
her poy, only sixt&en years oldt, could do noting 
to prevent te robbery, and might get himself 
shot ; zo she von't led liim go." 



296 SOLDIERS AND PATRIOTS 

*' That's jest the way," grumbled Longshort, 
inteiTuptmg again, " mothers make raal cowards 
o' their boys, keepin' 'em in so. She oughter let 
him watch, an' tried him." 

*' Yaw, tat's shoost vat she did do," said old 
Knickerbocker. " You vaifc, and led me talk. 
Yer}^ veil. Te poy teased his moder a vile, and 
ten she con-sented to led him vatch in te garden 
von niqht. She charodfc him and char^dt him 

o o o 

how to behave, ven te robber should come, and 
he says : ' Aloder, I must do as I can know best 
ven I see him.' And zo te leedle fellow gets liis 
fader's gun down, and loads it. Yen night came 
he vent in te garden out, and hidt himself in a 
snug place, pehindt some trees. Yeiy veil. Fy 
and py dere came sneaking into te yardt a great, 
strapping Ilighlandter, who pelongdt to te Brit- 
eesh Grenadiers. He filldt fall a large pag in 
his hand slily mit peaches, and ten he turn to go 
ava3\ Shoost ten te poy comes tiptoe out, and 
thteal oop softly behindt mit his gun. ' You are 
my prisoner ! ' says he, sudden, making his voice 



OF THE REVOLUTION. 297 

as big round as he could. ' Go forwardt, ofer in 
sat roadt, or I shoots you deadt/ says he. 

" Te Highkindter he joomped, for he vas took 
short oop mitout any varnin', and he knowdt 
notings who was after him. He didn't vant to 
pe shot, and zo he tought he'd petter do as te 
poy toldt him. He had his side-arms on, but tey 
vas no goot to him, for his handts was holding 
his bag, and te poy vouldn't led him trop it. 
Zo he got in te roadt ofer, mit te poy close be- 
hind t him, and if lie stopped, or looked apout 
making any suspicious motions, the poy vould 
threaten to shoot. Zo they vent on all te va}', 
te leedle hero behindt, mit his gun cocked retty 
to fire off, and I tell you, he trove that pig, 
strapping grenadier into te American camp, and 
delifered him oop a prisoner off var ! 

"Ven te soldier had permission to trow his 
pag down, and look roundt, he felt awfu 
ashamed to see who his captor vas. He could 
have stivered tat poy mit one plow off his fist — 
if he had only known. Ach, but it vas too lade 



298 SOLDIEES AND PATRIOTS. 

now — and all he could do vas to grumble. 
' Hoot anaw,' says he, ' a Briteesh grenadier 
made prisoner by soosh a brat — soosh a hratf " 

" Wiiat did the American officers say?" in- 
quired Humpback Dick. 

" Say ? Vy, tey said tat was a prafe and no- 
ple poy, and if they had an army of soosh poys, 
they could drive all te red-coats out of te 
landt." 

" They oughter gin the young feller a reward," 
said Longshort, "he desarved it." 

"Tat vas vat tey did. Te3^.made oop a col- 
lection off seferal poundts, and gafe to him, and 
te poy vent home proudt to his proud t moder." 

By this time the old Dutch soldier had scraped 
his apple down to the shell, and he and the other 
veterans, finding that it was past nine o'clock, 
left the inn, and went to their homes. 

THE END. 



BOOK NOTICES. 



THE AULD SCOTCH MITHER, AND OTHER POE*tS. 

IN THE DIALECT OF BuRNS. By J. E. RANKIN. IlLUSTRAT«I» B< 

Herpick and others. Boston: D. Lothrop ft Co. 1873. saiao. 
Pp. 125. 

Most careful readers of the higher specimens of the better class of news- 
papers have seen occasional poems by Dr. Rankin circulating about, dis» 
tinguished alike for the. flexible accuracy with which they have reproduced 
the old Scotch dialect that Burns made at once popular and famous, and 
for the genuinely Christian domesticity which saturates them thrcugh and 
through. Some of them have been widely copied and strongly compli- 
mented, and they richly deserved the distinction. These, with not a few 
others that had never before come to the public eye, are here collected into 
ft tasteful and well-illustrated volume, and are now sent forth en their pleas- 
ant and peculiar errand. It is a unique literary offering which they maka 
up, redolent of the glens and bights, the brigs and lochs, the forest and 
heather, the castles of the by-gone time, and the pleasant homes of the 
present which are peculiar to Scotland. Not a few of the pieces have in 
Jhem the sweetness of a musical rhythm and the sensibility of a brave 
ind tender soul. None are feeble or commonplace, and some of them 
j»05sess a merit, both in substance and form, that would be noticeable 
jmong the products of those whose songs have made melody for a conti- 
nent. — Rev. Dr. Day in Morning- St<'-r. 

t^TTLE THREE- YEAR-OLD. By Mrs. C. E. K. Davis. 

Boston: D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers. i6mo. pp. 164. 75c. 

Mrs. Davis, in her sketches of little three-year-old Tina, has shown that 
6he understands and sympathizes with childhood, knows its experiences 
and fancies, apprehends what is peculiar in its prose and its poetry, and 
can paint it with such a real life-likeness that it comes out from the covers 
of her book and stands forth a living, breathing, exhilarating thing. Be- 
longing to the same department of literature as Sophie May's Dotty Dim- 
ple and Prudy Books, it is every way worthy to stand beside them on the 
shelf. It is a taking little book which she has wrought out, and she need 
not fear but that her readers will plead for more of the same sort,— A&/A. 
0ditt Home Journal. 

MYSTERY OF THE LODGE. By MARY DWINNELL 
CHELLIS, Boston: D. LOTHROP & CO. 1873. 12 mo. pp.388. 

A thoroughly good book. Miss Chellis never fails to write with vivacity 
and a high moral ai.Ti. She is effective even when failing to be artistic, and 
one feels the strong beating of a true heart. In the Mystery of the Lodge 
Bhe seems chiefly aiming to set forth the superior value of a genial, sunny, 
sympathetic, helpful religion, over that which is dogmatic, formsJ, stem 
and cynical, — to show how Christian love in the heart rises above syste- 
matic theology in the head. In bringing out this lesson she sVetches for 
us a variety ot interesting characters, and fills her narratives and colloq- 'es 
with a zest and magnetism that forbid the reader to grow dull. — Mam* \t 
Stmr, 



BOOK NOTICES. 



FAITHFUL BUT NOT FAMOUS. A Historicai. Ta« 

By the Axtthor of " Soldier Fritz," &c Boston : D. LOTHROI 
& CO., Publishers. 1873. i6mo. pp. 305. 

This volume gives a most interesting account of the oiigin and early pio 
gress of the Protestant Reformation in France. It carries us back thret 
centuries, and sets us down in the very midst of the life prevailing at thai 
early day both at the French capital and in the provinces. Tb- leal his- 
tory has boen followed, and most of the events recorded are cuch as are, 
familiar to all careful readers of historical literature. More or less of tb« 
prominent personages of that period are dealt with, and the narratives and 
portraitures exhibit real skill. It is a species of literature that is every 
da^ gaining in prominence, and that does a very wholesome work. The 
bock shows that fiction is not essential to a vital interest, that valuable 
knowledge may be given in a most entertaining form, and that the great 
struggles between good and evil that have shaken the world and that are 
still to go on till the truth becomes triumphant, may enlist the strongest 
sympathy of those who have yet to find and perform the most important 
part of their work in the world. Such books as this can hardly be multi- 
plied too freely or be commended to the young in too emphatic away 
—Pastor and PeopU. 

THE BLOUNT FANIILY. By Rev. THERON BROWN. 

D. LOTHROP & CO., Boston, Pp. 459- Illustrated. $1.50. 

This is one of the "One Thousand Dollar Prize Series," and, in oui 
judgment, is the best story that Mr. Brown has written. In style it is un- 
usually discriminating and careful, and it abounds with scenes of domestic 
life, which are so striking, yet so true to human nature, so finely descrip- 
tive and so happily penned, that they seem to bring the reader into close 
companionship with the characters of the narrative. The two boys are 
traced along a checkered but significant career, from the early period when 
they lost their father, to early and noble manhood. But the story of the 
mother's devotion, and energy', and pluck, and womanly trust, is especially 
stimulating and valuable as a practical lesson. It is one of the few booka 
that will repay a second reading. — Youth's Companion. 

This is a good book. The difference between real religion and the super< 
ficial is clearly marked, and the power of the genuine strikingly illustrated. 
" An unaided woman makes a home for herself, and, actuated by the feai 
of God and the instincts of holy affection, is assured of being blessed and 
protected, and becomes the means of helping others onward and up> 
ward." 

The story must awaken a new admiration for a mother's love, and 
strengthen that faith which is more than knowledge and the hope that out- 
lives hardship and wrong. It is shown that piety and good sense will mak« 
the poor prosperous, the sweet excellencies of patience, self-denial, indus- 
try, cheerfulness and filial duty are illustrated, and reverence tor justice. 
temperance, truth purity, and the Bible are inculcated. — Ckritttatt Era 



OPINIONS EXPRESSED. 



" A White Hand. By Ella Farman. (D. Lothrop & Co.) 
This book is brightly and vivaciously written, and deals 
with the social problems of the present time, conservatively 
indeed, but with refreshing earnestness and delicacy. The 
tale is interesting. Those who hate Dr. Clarke, and believe 
that a woman is as good as a man, if not better, will be 
disgusted at the wife who, with the assistance of her friend 
spent the best years of her life in bringing herself u'^ to 
the standard of taste of a husband, handsome, fickle, and 
fine, who had chosen her once of his own free-will, and 
then grown discontented with her afterward. But, at least 
she succeeded ; an-d that is something — and the moral and 
intellectual gains she made, for his undeserving sake, en- 
riched her own nature. Millicent's white hand was not 
afraid to touch sin, sometimes, and sorrow, often — but 
her womanhood was so pure, her purpose so unselfish, that 
no contact was base enough to soil its whiteness. It is, I 
believe, the first attempt of its author, in this direction; 
and it is certainly successful in the present, while it promises 
yet better things for the future." New York Tribune. 

A White Hand. A Story of Noblesse Oblige. By 
Ella Farman. Boston : D. Lothrop & Co. i2mo. $1.50. 

Miss Farman has produced a genuine American novel, 
of great power ; original in conception, and bold in execu- 
tion. It opens with a series of Portraits, strikingly drawn ; 
and the story unfolds naturally, but with an intense interest, 
exciting and fascinating the calmest reader. Careless critics 
may call it sensational, but, while some incidents border 
on the improbable, the aim of the book is noble, and the 
characters are consistent throughout. Millicent Challis is 
a woman of lofty type, governed by the maxim that high 
birth and breeding demand high character — she is true to 
the law under stress of great temptation ; and the influence 
of her example purifies and ennobles associ :tes of weaker 
stuff and lower aims. It is a good novel to read. Its high 
ideal will please the thoughtful, and its dramatic power 
will attract and impress those who care only for an exciting 
story. — Dr. Lincoln, in The Coniribidor. 



OPINIONS EXPRESSED. 



THE LIFE OF AMOS LAWRENCE. 370 pages, 12mo, 
Illustrated. Price, $1.50. Boston : D. Lotiirop & Co., 
Publishers. 

"■ American biography has been immeasurably enriched by 
the publication of this excellent contribution." — Niagara 
Democrat. 

*'Asa business man Mr. Lawrence was a pattern. The 
pure and elevated character of his moral sentiments, and his 
deep religious sympathies, were the foundation of his char- 
acter and fortune. Notwithstanding his numerous charities, 
he died a millionaire." — Boston Traveller. 

"A life of spotless integrity and unexampled benevolence 
was his, and his life and character should be studied by 
every young man." — Bangor Journal. 

" He Avas one of nature's noblemen, who used and loved 
wealth principally for the good and happiness it enabled him 
to confer on his fellowmen. His liberality was boundless as 
the ocean, yet moved and regulated by principle." — Bich- 
mond Dispatch. 

" The example of a man who regulated every action of 
his life by a sense of his responsibility to God. The book 
must do good wherever it goes." — Boston Daily Advertiser. 

"This volume reveals a man of greater moral power than 
the most gifted statesman of the age, — power whose fruits 
will bless the world for ages to come. It gives us a view of 
the interior character of the highest style of man. The ex- 
ample it holds up before young men is more valuable than 
rubies." — Christian Observer. 

" Commencing life poor, by persevering industry, probity 
of character, and prudent enterprise, he rose to wealth and 
distinction, and united with remarkable and successful busi- 
ness talents and jmrsuits, a life of benevolence and religion." 
— Albany Ai-gus. 

" We are thanMul for the volume. It reveals a charity ^ 
noble and active, while the young merchant was still poor, 
a beautiful cluster of sister graces — and the constancy and 
magnitude of his contributions to the cause of humanity and 
piet7 " — JSTorth Ameriran Beview. 



BOOK NOTICES. 



THE OLD STONE HOUSE. Bv ANNIE MARCH. Bo» 

ton: D. LOTHROP & CO. 

We've read this book with real pleasure : One of the " Thousand DoIlaT 
Prize Series," it abounds in sterling common sense, sound principles, anft 
a pure, practical piety. It has a healthy fragrance about it from first tc 
last. True to Nature, it has a Spring-like freshness and vivacity, you find 
in it buds, blossoms, bird-song, sunshine, and merry life. At tlie same 
time it has, in parts, a dash of Autumn ; just enough to make it sweetly 
pensive. The vernal and the autumnal gracefully meet and mingle, ll th« 
story, so true and so tender, never rises to the loftiest heights, it never 
sinks to a dead and dreary level. A grand nature is that of old " Aunt 
Faith," putting her life into the noble and s«Jf-denying service of rearing 
up for this life and the next, five orphan nieces and nephews. The hook, 
has virtu* in it. — Christian Era. 

FINISHED OR NOT. By thb author op "Fabrics." Bos- 
ton: D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers. 1873. lamo. pp.360. 

Finished or Not is every way worthy of the author, who has heretofore 
given ample proof of exceptional ability in dealing in an entertaining and 
popular way with some of the deeper problems of life. We have ncx 
thoughts on great themes embodied in the form of a story, and sh sets 
forth the qualities that she would exalt in a gallery of portraits, tihe is 
never feeble, never superficial, never heedless, never doubtful in her moral 
teaching ; but her calm and thoughtful strength often comes out so that it 
sparkles, and stirs, and magnetizes, and lifts the reader as into a higher 
realm of life. For thoughtful, reflective and appreciative yoting people, 
the book w .11 !l ve a special charm and a large value. — IVatchman and 
Reflector. 

WILL PHILLIPS; OR, UPS AND downs in CHRISTIAN 
BOY-LIFE. Pp. 363. D. LOTHROP & CO., Publishers. 

Will Phillips is a book especially meant for wide-awake boys. It 
shows that the author understands them, sympathizes with them, has a 
high appreciation of their best qualities, and a generous side for their ex- 
cesses and faults. It is a fine exhibition of life at a large school for boys, 
setting forth the wholesome stimulants and the strong and subtle tempta- 
tions met in such a sphere, and especially showing how a Christian char- 
acter and life may be there maintained in connection with an earnest, gen- 
erous, gleeful, boyish enthusiasm, — how an Academy pupil may be voted 
" a real good fellow" without a dissenting voice by the most audacious and 
jolly of his companions,, and at the same time be so thoroughly true to the 
Great Master as to make every one confess the presence and power of 'Han 
godly element. The book is thoroughly wholesome, it is written with ahit 
ity and skill, and its vital interest is maintained even to the closing para 
(raph. — Boston Daily Jom-iuU. 



An Original and Intensely Interesting Story 
of American Society. By the New and Brilliant 
Author, Ella Farman. 

- A WHITE HAND. 

PRICE $i.so. 

" It will correct false standards of feeling^, and warn 
many a warm heart of the danger that lies in * just a friend- 
ship.' " — Tra7iscript. 

" The style is pure and elevated, the story original, of 
absorbing interest, and every way good.'' — Interior. 

" Millicent is a rare character ; pure and strong herself, 
she stooped and lifted up the weak, and inspired them with 
her own noble purposes." — Baptist Union. 

" It is cheerful and pathetic, forcibly written, and of stir- 
ring interest." — Daily Leader. * 

" The heroine is a woman of lofty type, true to the law 
under stress of temptation ; and the influence of her exam- 
ple purifies and ennobles associates of weaker stuff and lower 
aims." — Washington County Post. 

" This book is brightly and vivaciously written, and 
deals with the social problems of the present time, conserv- 
atively, indeed, but with refreshing earnestness and deli- 
cacy." — New York Tribune. 

" Its high ideal will please the thoughtful, and its dra- 
matic power will attract and impress those who care only 
for an exciting story." — Dr. Lincoln in the Contributor. 

" Millicent's white hand was not afraid to touch sin, 
sometimes — and sorrow, often — but her womanhood was 
so pure, her purpose so unselfish, that no conduct was 
base enough to soil its whiteness." — Louise Cliandlet 
Moulton in New York Tribune, 



